


The Rigged Games

by RoSH (RoSH95)



Category: Homestuck, Hunger Games - Fandom, the maze runner
Genre: Earth taken over by the Condesce, Everyone dies in the end, F/F, F/M, Highbloods in the Capital, Lowbloods and Humans used for entertainment, Lowbloods in the districts, M/M, Quadrant Confusion, Quadrant Vacillation, Soul Quadrants, Thirteen Districts, Trolls are in control, Well not everyone, You know how the Hunger Games work, capital
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:31:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoSH95/pseuds/RoSH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Condesce has taken over Earth and succeeded in repopulating her species there, however, there was a long and bloody battle that left both races weak. Now, the Condesce has set up Thirteen Districts surrounding the Capital. Only Highblooded trolls are allowed to live in the Capital, and the Lowbloods and humans are forced to live in the other districts, in poverty. Every year, the Hunger Games are held as a source of entertainment for the Capital.</p>
<p>However, this year will be different. The Condesce has learned of a rebellion being organized by the descendants of some of her old friends, who were killed in the 209th Hunger Games. There has not been a rebellion since the Dark Days, almost 225 years ago, and the Condesce will not stand to have another one happen under her reign. So she decided to rigg the games, to ensure that the leaders of the rebellion will be chosen and will all die in the Hunger Games.</p>
<p>She may have another reason as well, but no one knows what it is yet. Will they find out what the Condesce's plot is? When pitted against their friends, who will have the strength to survive? Read and Find out!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We're Going Through These Assholes Like Candy: Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a story that I'm working on over the summer to practice killing off characters. I might also practice a little smut too ;) 
> 
> Anyways, im not gonna worry too much about quality in this story, Im just trying to kill all the characters (or as many as I can bear to kill) in less than 3 months. Depending on the reception I get of this story, I might eventually come back and fix it up a bit, but that won't be for a long while.
> 
> E N J O Y !

A young man sits in his room, perched on the edge of a worn and ratty couch, eyes fixed upon the tiny screen of the television that is mandatory in every home and building. His hands are fisted in the coarse and scratchy fabric of the couch, his yellow and grey eyes narrowed as he glares out from beneath black bangs at the woman on the screen.

The boy is practically dressed in rags. His black sweater is torn in several places and patched clumsily with mismatched fabrics. His dark grey jeans are also ratty with gaping holes in the knees. A small grey Cancer sign hangs from a necklace around his neck. It is his most prized possession; the only thing he owns that he can truly say belongs to him.

What is this boy’s name?

 

=> Crabby McJackass

His right eye twitches and a snarl rips out from between his bared teeth (which are razor sharp, by the way!). He is not going to take any of your fucking shit. Try again, asshole.

 

=> Karkat Vantas

Your name is KARKAT VANTAS and you live in DISTRICT NINE with your lusus, CRABDAD. Your hive is really fucking small, but so are you and, as pissed off as that makes you, you don’t need a whole lot of space. You have a multitude of INTERESTS, most of which have something to do with ROMCOMS. You should really be EMBARRASSED for liking this DREADFUL CINEMA, but for some reason you are not. You are just really fucking interested in ROMANCE OF EVERY KIND. Especially the QUADRANTS you haven’t filled yet, which are MOST OF THEM. You like to program computers, but you are NOTORIOUSLY PRETTY AWFUL AT IT. Your programs invariably damage the machines on which they are executed, which is just as well, since you like to believe you specialize in COMPUTER VIRUSES. You are FUCKING UNSTOPPABLE (at least, you like to think you are) with a SICKLE and you’re not bad with a SCYTHE either. As was mentioned, you’re kind of SMALL, which makes you REALLY FUCKING FAST and HARD TO CATCH. This has an influence on your FIGHTING STYLE, which is more of an ADVANCE and FLEE kind of thing.

Your sign is CANCER, which you show with your GREY CANCER NECKLACE. Normally, your sign would be the same color as your BLOOD, but you’re not all too keen on showcasing your MUTANT CANDY-RED BLOOD. Your eyes are DARK GREY because you’re only EIGHT SWEEPS and your color won’t start coming in for another half sweep at least. Your skin is a really PALE shade of GREY, and you think that’s because you spend so much fucking time inside. Your hair is COAL BLACK and, try as you might, you just can’t get it to lay flat. It just grows ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE. Despite being SHORT, you have really elongated limbs, which makes you look more bone than muscle. You’ve been told that your appearance is quite SHOCKING at first, but ELEGANT when you get used to it. You’re not sure whether or not to take this as a compliment.

You suppose you ought to get on with the fucking story now.

 

=> Karkat: Get on with the story!

As was mentioned before, you are sitting in your shitty excuse for a respiteblock, on your shitty excuse of a couch, watching your moderately less shitty TV. Actually, you’re more glaring at it than you are watching it.

You see, they just revealed the rules for this year’s Quarter Quell, and you are a little fucking pissed. Like, you are so pissed that your tiny fucking body in all its five foot, four inch glory, has literally flushed with your blood color. Seriously. You wouldn’t be surprised if your fucking horns were turning red too!

My Gog, you are just _that_ fucking mad.

_Ass-blistering fucknuggets!_ It looks like someone is pestering you.

 

=> Who’s this asshole?

Asshole? Oh fuck you. That’s your _moirail_ pestering you.

Alright, you admit, he is a bit of an asshole. His ancestor is a fucking Hunger Games victor so they live in prosperity, and get pretty much anything they want. He’s literally high _all the fucking time_ and he wears this fucking white and grey facepaint like a fucking juggalo.

Which. You guess he kind of is?

He’s a purple-blood so... if his ancestor hadn’t gotten his own stupid clown ass kicked out of the Capital, your moirail probably would have been a Subjuggulator.

But! All clown-ass-juggalo-fuckery aside, your moirail is pretty great. He knows just what to say and do to bring one of those full out, fang-filled grins to your face. Like, if you looked in a mirror, you could see every single one of your shark-like teeth.

No one else makes you smile like that.

 

=> Alright, Asshole, you’ve kept him waiting long enough.

That’s right! Wait. Watch who you’re calling asshole, numbnuts!

terminallyCapricious [TC]  began pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG] 

TC: HeY bEsT mOtHeRfUcKiNg FrIeNd :o)  
TC: HoW iS iT gOiNg In WiCkEd DiStRiCt NiNe?

CG: FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE.  
CG: YOU KNOW VERY FUCKING WELL THAT THINGS ARE AS FUCKING PEACHY AS THEY POSSIBLY CAN BE IN “WICKED DISTRICT NINE”  
CG: OTHERWISE I WOULD HAVE CONTACTED YOU EARLIER WHILE FLIPPING ALL MY SHIT AND DOING FUCKING ACROBATIC PIROUETTES OFF THE FUCKING HANDLE.

TC: HaHa Ok BeSt FrIeNd  
TC: WhAtEvEr YoU sAy :o)  
TC: HoNk!  
TC: AcTuAlLy I wAs ReFeRiNg To ThE aNnOuNcEmEnT mAdE aBoUt ThIs YeArS qUaRtEr QuElL.  
TC: WhAt YoU aLl Up An ThInK oN tHaT mOtHeRfUcKiNg MiRaClE?

CG: I THINK ITS NOT A FUCKINGN MIRACLE IS WHAT I THINK!  
CG: SERIOUSLY, HOW CAN YOU EVEN *BE* THIS FUCKING STUPID?

TC: SoRrY bRo  
TC: WaSnT gEtTiNg My ThInK oN pRoPeRlY  
TC: DiDnT mEaN tO uP aNd CaLl It A mOtHeRfUcKiNg MiRaClE :o(  
TC: MeAnT tO bE cAlLiNg It A... uH...  
TC: ShIt I fOrGoT!

CG: THATS BECAUSE YOURE AN IDIOT WHO COULDNT EVEN REMEMBER HIS OWN NAME

TC: HeY! i ReSeMbLe ThAt!  
TC: WaIt...  
TC: MoThErFuCk

CG: ...YOU PANFRIED IDIOT.  
CG: ANYWAYS, I THINK THIS YEARS QUARTER QUELL IS FUCKING STUPID AND UNFAIR.  
CG: ITS A BUNCH OF STEAMING HOOFBEAST SHIT  
CG: THATS BEEN SITTING OUT IN THE SUN FOR TOO FUCKING LONG.  
CG: I WOULD KNOW, OBVIOUSLY.  
CG: SINCE THERES A STEAMING PILE OF HOOFBEAST SHIT SITTING IN THE MIDDLE OF MY FUCKING LAWNRING AND IM KIND OF FUCKING PISSED ABOUT IT.  
CG: LIKE. IS IT REALLY TOO MUCH TO FUCKING CLEAN UP YOUR OWN SHIT?  
CG: GOG IM SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS.

TC: AwE bEsT fRiEnD!  
TC: Do YoU nEeD a MoThErFuCkInG hUg?

CG: ...  
CG: FUCK YES D:B

TC: *HuGs* :oD  
TC: <>

CG: *HUGS*  
CG: ... <>

TC: NoW tElL mE wHaTs Up AnD hUrTiNg In YoUr MoThErFuCkInG tHiNkPaN  
TC: AnD wElL sEe If I cAnT mOtHeRfUcKiNg GeT yOu SoRtEd OuT :o)

CG: IVE PRETTY MUCH ALREADY TOLD YOU.  
CG: THE FUCKING QUARTER QUELL RULES.  
CG: DID YOU EVEN WATCH THE NEWS?

TC: YeAh  
TC: WaSnT mUcH pAyInG aTtEnTiOn ThOuGh  
TC: I kNoW tHe MoThErFuCkInG bAsIcS tHoUgH

CG: WELL THEN YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THIS YEARS RULES SAY THAT EVERYONE, REGARDLESS OF FUCKING SOUL QUADRANTS, HAS TO HAVE THEIR NAME ENTERED FOR THE REAPING AT LEAST ONCE.  
CG: AND THAT NO ONE CAN VOLUNTEER TO TAKE THE PLACE OF A TRIBUTE  
CG: THAT ONE IM NOT SO CONCERNED WITH THOUGH BECAUSE WHO THE FUCK IS GOING TO VOLUNTEER TO TAKE MY PLACE IF I GET PICKED?  
CG: NO FUCKING ONE THATS WHO  
CG: PEOPLE HERE WOULD PROBABLY ACTUALLY BE PRETTY FUCKING HAPPY IF I GOT CHOSEN AS A TRIBUTE.  
CG: ANYWAYS, WHAT IM FUCKING WORRIED ABOUT IS THE FUCKING SOUL QUADRANT SHIT.  
CG: IF YOU FIND YOUR ONE OF YOUR SOUL QUADRANTS, YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO WITHDRAW YOUR NAME FROM THE POT.  
CG: I WAS THINKING WE WOULDNT HAVE TO FUCKING DEAL WITH THIS SHIT THIS YEAR.  
CG: I WAS PREPARED TO ACTUALLY SIT THE FUCK BACK AND RELAX AND NOT FUCKING WORRY ABOUT IT.  
CG: I WAS GOING TO SEND IN A FUCKING REQUEST TO GET YOU TRANSFERRED OVER HERE WITH ME.

TC: HoNk!  
TC: :o(  
TC: Im SoRrY bEsT bRo  
TC: If ThErE wAs SoMeThInG i CoUlD aLl Up AnD dO tO mAkE sUrE yOu DoNt GoTtA wOrRy AbOuT gEtTiNg PiCkEd FoR tHe MoThErFuCkInG gAmEs  
TC: I wOuLd Do It In A mOtHeRfUcKiNg HeArTbEaT.  
TC: MoThErFuCkInG pAlE aS sUgAr FoR yOu <>

CG: YEAH, YEAH I KNOW FUCKASS  
CG: ... PALE FOR YOU TOO  
CG: ... <>

TC: :o)

CG: BUT... IM MORE WORRIED ABOUT YOU.

TC: AwE wHy ArE yOu MoThErFuCkInG wOrRiEd AbOuT mE?  
TC: I gOt No MoThErFuCkInG tRoUbLeS oVeR hErE iN dIsTrIcT sEvEn :o)

CG: YOU ARE SUCH A NUBSUCKING IDIOT.  
CG: YOURE ENTERED IN THE FUCKING REAPING TOO FUCKASS!

TC: Oh ShIt BeSt FrIeNd!  
TC: YoUrE mOtHeRfUcKiNg RiGhT!  
TC: Do:

CG: NO SHIT SHERLOCK!

 

==>

Your moirail is an idiot. It is him.

He doesn’t reply for a while after that, so you decided to actually do something productive. And by productive you mean totally fucking useless.

You know you should probably pester your other best friend, the one that organized all you assholes and gave you all cellphones, but you just don’t want to deal with him right now. He’s kind of an asshole anyways. He’s way too smart for his own good and you just know it’s going to get him culled one of these days.

Instead of clicking on his trolltag, which tells you that he is online and available for pestering, you turn one of the nobs on your TV to change the channel to one that you know will be playing a romcom marathon in a few minutes.

 

=> Karkat: Go get some snacks for this awesome romcom marathon!

You step out of your respiteblock and into the rumpusblock, crossing the block in less than eight steps to get to the preparation block portion of the room.

As you open your pitifully small thermal hull and look inside; you can’t really decide what you want to eat. There’s a disappointingly small slab of hoofbeast meat and some leftover grubbeef. The rest of your food is just a bunch of mismatched grub.

You really ought to go hunting again soon. It’s totally illegal, but you’re a growing troll! You need food!

Okay... so you’re not really a growing troll. You’ve been about five-four for the past two sweeps. You probably won’t be hitting another growth spurt until your adult pupation when... _if_ you reach nine sweeps.

Oh shit. You think you hear your movie starting.

 

=> Karkat: Grab some grub and get back in there!

You grab a fist-full of grub and toss it in one of your bowls, skittering back to your block.

You make it just in time for the opening of the first movie and settle back down on your couch. You nibble absently at your grub.

You’re gonna be pretty much dead to the world for a while, so why don’t you go be someone else?

 

=> Be terminallyCapricious

You are now terminallyCapricious. Wait. That’s not your name!

What is the name of this fine, young gentleman?

 

=> Gamzee Makara

You are now GAMZEE MAKARA and you live in DISTRICT SEVEN with your motherfucking ancestor, KURLOZ. Your hive is huge and sprawling, in order to accommodate you and your ancestor’s ENORMOUS HEIGHTS. The size of your house also has to do with the fact that you live in the motherfucking VICTOR’S VILLAGE, but you don’t think on that very much. You have a few INTERESTS, most of which have something to do with motherfucking CLOWNS. You just LOVE clowns. They are funny and happy and try to make people SMILE, which is your entire GOAL IN LIFE. You also get pretty excited by CLOWNS OF A GRIM PERSUASION WHICH MAY NOT BE IN FULL POSSESSION OF THEIR MENTAL FACULTIES. You belong to a RATHER OBSCURE CULT, which foretells of a BAND OF ROWDY AND CAPRICIOUS MINSTRELS which will rise one day on a MYTHICAL PARADISE PLANET that does not exist yet. The beliefs of this cult are SOMEWHAT FROWNED UPON by those dwelling in more common lawnrings. But you don't care, you got to be going with what feels right at where your heart's up in, you know? You enjoy a FINE BEVERAGE, and like to do A LITTLE BAKING SOMETIMES. You've got ALL THESE HORNS all over the place, and sometimes you step on them and SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF YOURSELF. You like to chat a lot with your pal KARKAT, who is usually pretty cranky, but he is your BEST FRIEND. You have a lot of OTHER GREAT FRIENDS who you also like a lot. You fight with a pair of JUGGLING CLUBS and don’t really have any set FIGHTING STYLE. You just sort of SMASH THINGS.

Your sign is CAPRICORN, which is shown in PURPLE on EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR SHIRTS. Your eyes are BRIGHT PURPLE and your skin is a rather DARK shade of GREY. You recently turned NINE SWEEPS OLD, so you’ll be coming up on your ADULT PUPATION in another half year or so. Your hair is NIGHT BLACK and REALLY CURLY. You don’t even motherfucking try to comb it. You just let it hang all over the place like a motherfucking RAT’S NEST. As mentioned, you are REALLY MOTHERFUCKING TALL, but it’s more HEIGHT than GIRTH. You look similar to an ELONGATED BEANPOLE; all limbs and bone and muscle, but no fat. Despite this, you’re not really an angular motherfucker. Like your HORNS, your body curves and slides between limbs.

 

=> Gamzee: Get on with the story

You are in one of the many rumpusblocks in your hive, sprawled on a cushiony couch, starring up at the ceiling. Up until just a few moments ago, before you totally zoned out, you were pestering your moirail, who also happens to be your motherfucking soul quadrant.

But that was before you remembered that you’re not quite in the clear yet. You’re nine sweeps old, but in human years, you’re eighteen, which means you’ve still got one more year in the Hunger Games. You had been so concerned for your best bro, that you completely forgot that tiny detail.

A soft _ping_ draws you out of your thinkpan, and back into reality. Looks like some other motherfucker is pestering you.

 

=> Gamzee: Answer them

twistedColours [tc]  began pestering  terminallyCapricious [TC]

tc: hey MOTHERFUCKER  
tc: you get your peepStalkS on that MOTHERFUCKING announcement they made a few minuteS ago?

TC: Oh HeLl YeAh I dId My TwIsTeD sIsTeR.  
TC: mOtHeRfUcKeR wAtChEd ThAt RiTeOuS sHiT.  
TC: pEsTeReD kArBrO aBoUt It ToO.

tc: ahhh...  
tc: and how iS he taking the MOTHERFUCKING newS?

TC: nOt ToO wElL, tO bE pErFeCtLy MoThErFuCkInG hOnEsT.  
TC: hE wAs ToTaLlY fLiPpInG hIs ShIt WhEn I lAsT tAlKeD tO hIm.  
TC: WhIcH rEmInDs Me  
TC: I nEeD tO rEpLy To HiM qUiCk

tc: take your MOTHERFUCKING time :o)

 

==>

CG: NO SHIT SHERLOCK!

terminallyCapricious [TC]  is an idle chum!

TC: I cAnT bElIeVe I mOtHeRfUcKiNg FoRgOt AbOuT tHaT :o(  
TC: I wAs ToO mOtHeRfUcKiNg BuSy BeInG wOrRiEd AbOuT yOu!

CG: ...  
CG: SERIOUSLY GAMZEE???  
CG: ITS BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU LAST MESSAGED ME AND IM CURRENTLY FUCK DEEP IN A ROMCOM MARATHON.

TC: Oh ThAtS cOoL bEsT fRiEnD :o)  
TC: yOu WaTcH yOuR mOtHeRfUcKiNg RoMcOmS  
TC: wE cAn TaLk AgAiN lAtEr :o)

CG: OKAY  
CG: ILL PESTER YOU EITHER TONIGHT WHEN THE MARATHON ENDS OR TOMORROW MORNING.  
CG: DEPENDS IF I PASS THE FUCK OUT IN THE FUCKING MIDDLE AGAIN LIKE I DID LAST TIME.

TC: HaHa AlRiGhT bRo :o)  
TC: SoUnDs MoThErFuCkInG mIrAcUlOuS tO mE!

CG: YOU AND YOUR FUCKING MIRACLES  
CG: LATER FUCKASS  
CG: <>

TC: :o)  
TC: <>

carcinoGenetisist [CG]  ceased pestering  terminallyCapricious [TC] 

 

==>

TC: AlRiGhT mOtHeRfUcKeR  
TC: iM bAcK :o)

tc: welcome back :o)  
tc: you didnt MOTHERFUCKING miSS much  
tc: ive juSt been Sitting here  
tc: being bored out of my MOTHERFUCKING mind.

TC: SoRrY  
TC: dIdNt Up An MoThErFuCkInG mEaN tO mAkE yOu WaIt  
TC: WhAt WeRe We TaLkInG aBoUt AgAiN?

tc: lol itS fine!  
tc: you were talking to your MOTHERFUCKING moirail  
tc: you dont have to apologize for taking your MOTHERFUCKING time :o)  
tc: and we were talking about the MOTHERFUCKING announcement made for thiS yearS MOTHERFUCKING quarter quell ruleS

TC: Oh YeAh!  
TC: HoNk!  
TC: HaHa :o)

tc: HONK!  
tc: :o)  
tc: So you told me how karkat felt about the MOTHERFUCKING ruleS  
tc:  but what about you?  
tc: what do you up and MOTHERFUCKING think of them?

TC: NoT rEaLlY mOtHeRfUcKiNg SuRe  
TC: It MoThErFuCkInG sUcKs ThAtS fOr SuRe  
TC: BuT oThEr ThAn ThAt  
TC: I aInT rEaLlY gOt A mOtHeRfUcKiNg OpInIoN  
TC: wHaT aBoUt YoU tWiStEd SiStEr?  
TC: WhAt Do YoU uP aNd MoThErFuCkInG tHiNk On ThIs?

tc: itS a bunch of MOTHERFUCKING hoofbeaSt Shit!  
tc: i alSo got a few MOTHERFUCKING theorieS on why the ruleS are the oneS they are

TC: ReAlLy?  
TC: WhAt ArE yOuR mOtHeRfUcKiNg ThEoRiEs?

tc: i would actually like to MOTHERFUCKING do a little more reSearch before i Share my thoughtS with anyone!  
tc: Sorry MOTHERFUCKER

TC: ThAtS oKaY!

tc: thankS :o)

TC: No PrObLeM mOtHeRfUcKeR!  
TC: hOnK!

tc: HONK!  
tc: anywayS  
tc: i gotta go. im waiting on terezi for my next bit of MOTHERFUCKING info :o)

TC: AlRiGhT!  
TC: lAtEr TwIsTeD sIsTeR!

tc: later!

twistedColours [tc]  ceased pestering  terminallyCapricious [TC]

 

==>

You are now SANIER DARKLE and you live in DISTRICT SEVEN with your lusus, SEADRAMOM. Your hive is relatively small, but you don’t mind. It might be a bit uncomfortable because of your HEIGHT, but you don’t spend much time inside it anyways. Your INTERESTS take you outside into the FOREST surrounding your district. You enjoy PAINTING, SINGING, DANCING, and SWIMMING WITH YOUR LUSUS. You fight with a CHAINSAW OF BLOODY DISMEMBERMENT because you like to MUTILATE THE BODIES and use their BLOOD to PAINT THE WICKED PICTURES. You swear you’re not INSANE.

Your sign is YIN AND YANG, which you wear proudly in DARK PURPLE on your FAVORITE TANK TOP. Your eyes are the color of GRAPE FAYGO (cause them’s the bitchtits) and your skin is the DARKEST shade of motherfucking GREY. Your hair is BLACK with a PURPLE STREAK in the bangs. You are very nearly NINE AND A HALF SWEEPS, which means your ADULT PUPATION is coming up very soon. If you don’t get picked in the REAPING this year, you might just live a LONG life.

 

=> Sanier: Get on with the story already!

Jegus, fine.

You have just gotten off pesterchum with one of your very best friends, Gamzee Makara. He actually lives in the same district as you. His hive is in the Victor’s Village, in the very center of District Seven. Your own hive is on the very outskirts of the district, near a large lake for your lusus.

Most trolls don’t have a lusus anymore, as the Condesce sped up reproduction to keep up with the humans. Trolls are raised by their ancestors now, where they would have been hatched thousands of sweeps apart before.

Your own ancestor was called the Darkseer. Her name was Mikari, and you are told she was very kind, for a Subjuggulator. Even though she was a purpleblood, Mikari was banished from the Capital and sent to District Seven. Along with her, the Condesce also banished Kurloz, the Grand High-Blood. It was only a few years after that, that Mikari, Kurloz, and twenty-four others were chosen for the 209th Hunger Games.

You are told Mikari died a death fit for a Subjuggulator.

Given that, you’re not really sure you want to know exactly how she died.

You were still a wriggler when she died, so the Condesce assigned you a lusus to help raise you. You think that giving all the ancestor-less wrigglers lusii is just about the nicest thing the Condesce has ever done.

Actually, it’s the only nice thing she’s ever done.

Aside from that tiny little thing necessary to the survival of your race, the Condesce has pretty much left you to fend for yourself. The yearly supply of grub that you get from the capital isn’t nearly enough to get you through the year, and you don’t bring in enough income to buy the food to make up for that. Your lusus catches fish for you from the lake, but she can’t catch too many or they’ll all be gone.

You know that there are other people off worse than you though. There’s a human family that lives down the road from you, who lost their youngest about a year ago to pneumonia. They couldn’t afford the medicine that would heal him and so he died. You think it’s really sad and cruel and shouldn’t be happening.

It was this, among other things, that convinced you to join the rebellion.

 

==>

A little under a year ago, this package randomly appeared in your respiteblock one day, surrounded by glowing red and blue psionics. You had no idea where it came from, only that it popped into existence as you were reclining on your slab, reading a book.

You opened up the box to find a small, purple device with instructions on how to use it.

Curious, you powered it on and, almost immediately, a message popped up on the screen.

 

==>

twinArmageddons [TA]  opened a memo on joiin the rebelliion 24 hours ago

TA: 2o iif youre readiing thii2, iit mean2 youve receiived one of my 2peciial hand-held me22age deviice2  
TA: ii call them cellphone2  
TA: well... actually that2 the capiital approved name for them but fuck that  
TA: anyway2, the2e cellphone2 are operated u2iing a completely diiferent 2y2tem from the capiital2.  
TA: iive 2et them up 2o that the capiital cant get acce22 to them wiithout actually piicking up the deviice them2elve2.  
TA: you 2hould be the only one who iis able to acce22 your pe2terchum and me22age2.  
TA: by the way, thi2 i2 pe2terchum.  
TA: iit2 a program ii de2igned 2o that we have a me22agiing 2y2tem 2eparate from the capiital2.  
TA: make2 iit even harder for them to track u2 iif they do happen to catch wiind of what were doiing.  
TA: anyway2, youve been cho2en to receiive thi2 cellphone becau2e your ance2tor/guardiian happened two diie iin the 2ame hunger game2 a2 my ance2tor.  
TA: you know what iit2 liike two grow up wiithout knowiing your ance2tor; two grow up viirtually alone.  
TA: you 2hould know better than anyone the horror2 that the conde2ce ha2 commited.  
TA: iim 2tartiing a rebelliion.  
TA: ii want you two joiin me  
TA: wiith your help, we may be able to overthrow the conde2ce and put 2omeone el2e iin charge. 2omeone who actually know2 what theyre doiing and ii2nt a power-hungry p2ychopath.  
TA: once youve 2et up your pe2terchum account, my u2ername 2hould already popup iin your contact2. me22age me fiir2t thiing, and iintroduce your2elf.  
TA: oh and... whatever you do, dont let the conde2ce or any of her 2upporter2 2ee thii2.  
TA: iif you do, ii 2wear two gog, ii wiill 2et my fuckiing moiiraiil on you and 2he wiill tear you two fuckiing piiece2.

twinArmageddons [TA]  closed memo

 

==>

It’s been a long time since then, and you’ve become great friends with most of the others TA sent cellphones to.

Originally, TA didn’t send a cellphone to Gamzee, because his ancestor was the one who won the games, but you knew that Gamzee would support a rebellion, and you managed to convince TA.

You actually aren’t sure why Gamzee supports the rebellion.

He’s got everything he could ever want, and yet he wants to tear the system down. Now, you would say that he’s doing it to give his moirail a better life, but he only met his moirail when he got his cellphone from TA. You’ve never actually asked him why he supports the rebellion, and you aren’t sure you really want to know.

Purple-bloods are just like that, you guess: Capricious and unpredictable.

You would know. After all, you’re a purple-blood too. Only you’re just a shade blacker than Gamzee, and don’t lean quite as far towards the juggalo-god-complex.

Alright, you’ve been Sanier for quite long enough now. Let’s go meet someone else.

 

=> Be twinArmageddons

You are now SOLLUX CAPTOR and you live in DISTRICT THIRTEEN with your lusus, BICLOPS. You live in a COMMUNAL HIVESTEM, which the humans call an APARTMENT. You don’t have very many INTERESTS, but you enjoy TECHNOLOGY. Actually, you are apeshit bananas at computers, and you know ALL THE CODES. All of them. You are the unchallenged authority on APICULTURE NETWORKING. You spend almost every minute of your free time DESIGNING COMPUTER PROGRAMS, among other, less legal things. And though all your friends recognize your unparalleled achievements as a TOTALLY SICK HACKER, you feel like you could be better. It's one of a number of things you SORT OF BEAT YOURSELF UP ABOUT for NO VERY GOOD REASON during sporadic and debilitating BIPOLAR MOOD SWINGS. You have a penchant for BIFURCATION, in logic and in life. Your mutant mind is hounded by the psychic screams of the IMMINENTLY DECEASED. Your visions foretell of the planet's looming annihilation, and yet unlike the typical sightless prophet of doom, you are gifted with VISION TWOFOLD. You don’t actually fight with a WEAPON, because you have FUCKING PSIONICS, but you’re not bad with THROWING STARS.

Your sign is GEMINI, which you wear on your GOLD AND BLACK HOODIE. Your eyes are KINDA WEIRD because of your psionics; one is RED and the other is BLUE and they GLOW IN THE DARK. Your skin is a really PALE shade of GREY, because you almost never leave your hive. Your hair is COAL BLACK and likes to DEFY GRAVITY by standing on end. Despite your low blood, you are quiet TALL and SKINNY, and all SHARP ANGLES.

 

=> Sollux: What’s your story?

You are one of the brightest minds of your age, and you are certainly putting your brains to good use. For the better part of a year, you have been organizing and leading a rebellion against the capital.

So far, you have been unsuccessful in reaching your goal. You actually have no idea how to do that yet. However, you have been slowly but surely gathering supporters in all thirteen of the districts. The cellphones you sent to each of the ancestors of the people who died in the same hunger games as your ancestor have been key to your success. As much as you hate to admit it, even Gamzee has been a huge help, and his ridiculous strength, durability, and stamina could be a huge asset later on as well. Fucking highbloods.

Speaking of highbloods, you’re waiting for one to pester you back right now. He left a while ago, saying that something big was happening and he would message you back as soon as he knew what was going on. You haven’t heard from him since, and you’re beginning to get a little worried.

He’s a huge prick and you kind of hate him, but he’s part of your team, and you will need him if you’re going to succeed.

You wonder if the big thing happening has to do with the announcement of this year’s quarter quell rules. You didn’t watch the news, but your friends have been pestering you nonstop about it. If their reactions are any indication, you’re pretty sure just about everyone is flipping their shit right now.

Which brings to mind another one of your friends. Your closest friend, actually. You’re kind of surprised he hasn’t pestered you about this yet. Normally, he would be freaking out even harder than everyone else combined. Man, that kid can flip his shit like a fucking boss.

You probably shouldn’t be surprised, all things considered. At the point when you expect that little fucker to flip his shit the hardest, he totally doesn’t flip it. He just lets it sit there getting all crispy around the edges.

His moirail probably got to him before he could message you.

You guess that’s another thing that purple-blooded fucker is good for.

 

==>

Okay, you’ve got important shit to be doing, so go be someone else!

 

=> Be the other highblood

You are now ERIDAN AMPORA and oh shit you are so _fucked_.

 

=> Wait, back up. You gotta introduce yourself first!

Really? Bluh.

Your name is ERIDAN AMPORA and you live in DISTRICT ONE with your lusus, SKYHORSE. Your hive is a moderate size, because you live more towards the center of the city. District One is one of the more prosperous districts, so you can happily say you have never been in want of anything. You have several INTERESTS. You hold a fascination for MILITARY HISTORY AND LEGENDARY CONQUERORS. You have dubiously modeled your profile and exploits after the most notorious figures and their stories, which are bristling with the GLORY OF VICTORY and the STING OF DEFEAT and POLITICAL MACHINATIONS and ROMANTIC INTRIGUE. It is an image you are careful to craft through EXAGGERATED EMOTIONAL THEATRICS, and your penchant for mass murder notwithstanding, people tend to regard you as a BIT OF A TOOL. You also like MAGIC, even though you know it to be FAKE. Like a made up friend, the way wizards are. Made up make believe FAKEY FAKEY FAKES. It's still fun though. You are also really interested in your ancestor, CRONUS. He was a really notorious PIRATE back in the day, and you aspire to be JUST LIKE HIM. You even found one of his old weapons, AHAB’S CROSSHAIRS, which is a really powerful PLASMA RIFLE. Because of this, you are more of a LONG RANGE FIGHTER, which is helpful in some cases.

Your sign is AQUARIUS, which you wear in GLITTERING VIOLET on nearly ALL YOUR CLOTHES. Your eyes are VIOLET and your skin is a pleasant shade of GREY. Your hair is BLACK with a WAVY VIOLET streak in the middle. Flowing through your veins is nearly the richest blood the hemospectrum has to offer, penultimate on the scale. As such, you are a SEA DWELLER, a sub-race of troll distinct from the commoners by mutation and habitat, a caste which rules over the entire species. As a HIGHBLOOD and a SEADWELLER, you have a rather low blood temperature, and tend to wear long sleeves all the time. You also have a VIOLET CAPE and SCARF that you really like and wear a lot.

Are you allowed to tell the story now?

 

=> Yes. Tell the story

This year’s Quarter Quell rules were announced this afternoon and, like the idiot you are, you decided to go check out the public announcement they made in District One, rather than staying safe in your hive like a smart troll. You have never regretted anything so much in your life.

District One is one of the few districts that actually supports the Capital. You and the other troll from District One have been having a lot of trouble gathering supporters of the rebellion. You’ve had to be really careful to be sure that whomever you’re recruiting is actually a supporter of your cause before telling them anything.

Apparently, you didn’t do good enough because someone sold you out. They must have done it a while back though, because otherwise the Capital would never have been able to come up with a plan _this_ good. Or maybe they would. You suppose the Condesce is smart enough to plot this in only a few days.

Anyways, you are now sitting in a room with your friend and four peacekeepers, being briefed on exactly what is going to happen tomorrow during the reaping ceremony.

 

==>

PEACEKEEPER: Tomorrow morning District One will start off the Reaping Ceremony.

VRISKA: Yeah we already know asshat. Get oooooooon with it already!!!!!!!!

PEACEKEEPER: Quiet!

VRISKA: Ow!

PEACEKEEPER: As I was saying, the Reaping Cermony will begin tomorrow at 9 am. You will both report to the Courtyard at this time, acting normally.

VRISKA: Well how else would we act? Stupidly?

ERIDAN: vvriska, shut up!

PEACEKEEPER: At least your companion has some sense.

VRISKA: Oh, f8ck 8ll of y8u!  
VRISKA: OW!!!!!!!!  
VRISKA: ST8P H8TT8NG ME D8MN8T!!!!!!!!

PEACEKEEPER: Then shut yer mouth and keep quiet!

VRISKA: .........

PEACEKEEPER: As per usual, the female tribute will be chosen first, and then the male. However, this year will be different. This year, the games have been rigged.

VRISKA: ........ 8.8

ERIDAN: ... o.o

PEACEKEEPER: For each of the districts, only two names have been entered. For District One, those two names are yours. So, no matter what happens, it will be your names that are drawn, and it will be you who will be put in the Hunger Games.

VRISKA: Oh........ so thats why the quarter quell rules........

PEACEKEEPER: Exactly. Now that you know this, you must go back to your hive and stay there until morning. You will not have contact with anyone besides your family. Your hive will be watched, so do not think you can sneak away. Come morning, you must act as if nothing has changed, and that this year’s reaping will be just the same as every other year’s.

ERIDAN: just one question. wwhy tell us this? wwhats the purpose a tellin us this? wwhy not just wwait an let us find out tomorroww?

PEACEKEEPER: We are not as heartless as many would assume. It was to give you time to prepare yourself for tomorrow and say your goodbyes to your family.

ERIDAN: in other words you havve absolutely no idea wwhy. fan-fucking-tastic.

PEACEKEEPER: We simply do as we are told. Our orders were to capture you and inform you of what will happen tomorrow, then escort you back to your hives and set up a watch on them to ensure you do not escape.

VRISKA: So now that you’re done with us, you’re taking us 8ack to our hives, right?

PEACEKEEPER: Yes. There are two guards for each of you.

VRISKA: Well, then I guess I’ll 8e seeing you tomorrow, Eridan.

ERIDAN: apparently. see ya serket.

 

==>

You are now VRISKA SERKET and you live in DISTRICT ONE with your lusus, SPIDERMOM. You have a pretty big hive, in order to accommodate the rather large size of your lusus. You have a good number of INTERESTS, your favorite of which is FLARPING. You are a master of EXTREME ROLE PLAYING. You can't get enough of it, or really any game of high stakes and chance. You also think that ROLE PLAYING games are the best way to pass the time (and also feed your lusus). You are something of an APOCALYPSE BUFF. You are fascinated by end of the world scenarios, and enjoy constructing DOOMSDAY DEVICES for the hell of it. You are drawn to means of DARK PROGNOSTICATION and the advantages they offer, particularly in gaming scenarios. You fight with your deceased ancestor’s FLOURITE OCTET (eight eight-sided dice) and a badass SWORD.

Your sign is SCORPIO, which you wear in SPARKLING BLUE on all your clothes. Your eyes are CERULEAN BLUE and your skin is a lovely shade of GREY. Your hair is LONG, BLACK, and CURLY. As a HIGHBLOOD, you are relatively TALL and THIN, with a WIREY FRAME and lots of ANGLES. You actually like the shape of your body, unlike SOME PEOPLE YOU KNOW.

 

=> Vriska: Get on with the story

You have just been escorted back to your hive by two very gentlemanly peacekeepers. You’ve always thought the peacekeepers weren’t so bad. One of your closest friends, a ruthless Legislacerator from District Two, has been aspiring to become a peacekeeper since her pupation from wrigglerhood. Eridan, on the other hand, platonically hates the peacekeepers with a burning passion you didn’t know was possible for violet-bloods.

The peacekeepers who so kindly escorted you home told you that you wouldn’t be allowed to have any contact with anyone, but whoever their info source was, they obviously didn’t know about your cellphones. Eridan will probably tell Sollux about this too, but you want to one up him by getting the message out to all of your friends as quickly as possible.

Which means........ MEMO TIME!

 

=> Vriska: Open a memo

arachnidsGrip [AG]  opened a memo on 8IG 8R8K!!!!!!!!

AG: WE’VE GOT PRO8LEMS!  
AG: S8ME8NE S8LD US 8UT 8ND N8W THE C8P8T8L 8S 8N T8 US 8ND G8G GUYS WE 8RE JUST 8LL S8 DE8D!!!!!!!!

twinArmageddons [TA]  responded to memo

TA: woah 2low down VR. ju2t... calm down.  
TA: what happened?

AG: I 8M C8LM!!!!!!!!

TA: ...  
TA: 2ure you are.

AG: Okay. I admit, I might 8e a little worked up.  
AG: 8ut its for a really good reason!  
AG: I don’t know who did it, 8ut I swear to gog when I find out I’ll hunt them d8wn 8nd sk8n th8m 8live!!!!!!!!

TA: agaiin, 2low down.  
TA: who diid what? what the hell ii2 happeniing down there VR?  
TA: iim more than a liittle freaked out about thii2 you know  
TA: ED 2aiid 2omethiing wa2 happeniing down there, but that wa2 hour2 ago, and ii havent heard from hiim 2iince and now 2uddenly youve opened a memo and 2tarted fliipiing all your 2hiit  
TA: 2tart talkiing 2erket.

AG: Okay, okay.  
AG: Right. I’m calm  
AG: Tooooooootally calm  
AG: Anyways........  
AG: Me and Eridan went to the pu8lic announcement they made today in District One a8out the Quarter Quell rules this year. After the announcement, we were gra88ed 8y a couple of peacekeepers who took us to the Justice 8uilding.  
AG: They told us that they knew a8out our plan for re8ellion  
AG: And they were gonna shut us down.

TA: oh fuck  
TA: what el2e diid they 2ay?

AG: The games are rigged  
AG: Oh SH8T S8LLUX THE G8MES 8RE F8CK8NG R8GGED!!!!!!!! D::::

TA: what do you mean  
TA: the game2 are riigged?  
TA: what the fuck doe2 that mean 2erket?!?!

caligulasAquarium [CA]  responded to memo

CA: it means that wwere all screwwed.  
CA: the games havve been rigged so that our names wwill be picked  
CA: the only names in those bowls are ours.  
CA: me an vvriska, you an karkat... theres twwo of us in evvery district.  
CA: twwo tributes for each district  
CA: an its gonna be us  
CA: wwere gonna havve to kill each other

TA: ARE YOU FUCKIING KIIDIING ME?!?!?!

AG: Unfortunately, no ::::(

apocalypseArisen [AA]  responded to memo

AA: d0es this mean we’re all g0ing t0 die

AG: Pro8a8ly.

TA: 2hut up 2erket!  
TA: iit doe2 NOT mean were goiing two diie  
TA: we’ll fiigure a way out of thii2  
TA: iill fiigure a way out of thii2

AA: s0llux...  
AA: d0n’t push y0urself, 0kay  
AA: i’m actually 0kay with dying  
AA: at least i w0uld finally be able t0 escape this awful w0rld!

TA: AA... 2top... ju2t 2top.  
TA: lookiing on the fuckiing briight 2iide ii2nt goiing to help u2

twinArmageddons [TA]  blocked  apocalypseArisen [AA]  from responding to memo

TA: 2orry AA

CA: so wwhat are wwe gonna do about this then?

TA: what do you mean?

CA: i MEAN wwhats our plan?  
CA: you said youd figure it out, but youvve only got about 9 more hours before the district 1 reapin ceremony.

TA: ... ii... ii dont thiink iill be able to thiink of 2omethiing before then  
TA: gog iim 2o 2orry ED  
TA: there2 nothiing ii can do!

twinArmageddons [TA]  ceased responding to memo

AG: Good jo8!  
AG: You made our fearless leader flip aaaaaaaall his shit and go AWOL!!!!!!!!

CA: FUCK YOU SERKET!  
CA: and fearless? yeah right  
CA: sol aint fearless hes a fuckin cowward  
CA: you wwant fearless maybe you should look in the direction of district nine  
CA: noww THERE is a couple a fearless fuckers

AG: Karkat and L8rae?  
AG: Fearless?! Pfffffffft!!!!!!!!  
AG: Hahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!! ::::D  
AG: Good one!  
AG: If those two are fearless, then Im the nicest 8itch youll ever meet!

CA: ...  
CA: that doesnt evven deservve a answwer

caligulasAquarium [CA]  ceased responding to memo

 

==>

You are now ARADIA MEGIDO and you live in DISTRICT THIRTEEN with you lusus, RAMOM. Your hive is tiny and located in the middle of nowhere, but you prefer to live a simple life, away from the largeness and business of the city. You have a number of INTERESTS, most of which have to do with ARCHEOLOGY and ARCHITECTURE. You really enjoy looking at the STRUCTURES and DESIGNS of really pretty buildings. You don’t really like to fight, but when you do, you use a WHIP or your FISTS. It depends on what’s available to you at the time.

Your sign is ARES, which you wear proudly in RUST RED on your NICEST SHIRT. Your eyes are DARK GREY because you’re only EIGHT SWEEPS and your color won’t start coming in for another half sweep at least. Your skin is a lovely shade of DARK GREY, and you think that’s because you spend so much time outside. Your hair is LONG, BLACK, and MESSY AS HELL. You gave up trying to tame it a long time ago. As a LOWBLOOD, you’re rather SMALL and CURVY. You like that. Many of the more attractive humans you’ve met have been plump and curvy.

 

=> Aradia: Move on with the story

You have just been blocked, _by your moirail_ , from responding to a memo. You’re not really upset by it—because, let’s face it, you don’t get upset about _anything_ —but it did surprise you a little. Your moirail doesn’t usually block people from responding to memos unless he’s really upset about something.

You want to message him and try talking to him about it, but chances are he’ll probably just ignore you. The only way for you to get through to him is to go talk to him in person.

Luckily, you both live in the same district, so that’s an easy thing to do! If he lived in another district, you could visit him there, but then you’d have to go through a bunch of paperwork and that’s just a drag.

 

=> Aradia: Go visit your moirail

You step outside your hive, waving to Ramom on your way out, and jog down the street to the large communal hive where your moirail lives.

All of District Thirteen is very modern and techy. Almost all the buildings are made of metal rather than stone, and the place lights up brighter than a Christmas tree (not that you know what a Christmas tree _is_ ) at night when all the streetlamps come on.

You’re more of an outdoorsy person, so this type of city doesn’t really appeal to you, but Sollux is here, so that makes it marginally better. In any case, you live on the outskirts of the city, where the buildings aren’t as high-tech as where Sollux lives.

When you get to the communal hivestem, rather than climbing the thirty-some flights of stairs it takes to get to his floor, you just scale the side of the building like any normal troll. You reach the roof in record time and pull out your cellphone to pester Sollux and let him know you’re here.

You always try to make your presence known before barging into people’s hives. Its only polite.

 

==>

apocalypseArisen [AA]  began pestering  twinArmageddons [TA]

AA: im 0utside  
AA: s0llux  
AA: are y0u ign0ring me  
AA: well i tried  
AA: d0nt blame me when y0u get upset at me f0r n0t telling y0u i was c0ming in because i did

apocalypseArisen [AA]  ceased pestering  twinArmageddons [TA]

 

==>

You break down the door to his hive and cheerfully call out into the deapths of his apartment.

“Sooooooollux!” you call.

You giggle to yourself when you hear his responsive “FUCK” and step further into the hive.

You easily make your way to his block, having been here many times before, and open the door without bothering to knock. It’s your moirail. There’s nothing you haven’t seen before.

Sollux is surrounded by the bright lighting from his advanced computer, making him little more than a silhouette to your eyes. He’s spun his chair around, and you can make out his glowing red and blue eyes glaring at you. It would look a bit frightening if you didn’t know him.

“Fuck, AA, what have I told you about knocking?” Sollux snarls at you.

You don’t take his anger seriously. You never do. Sollux would never hurt you on purpose and you know his irritation is just a mask.

You grin at him and flit across the block to give him a kiss on the top of his head, right between his horns.

Sollux sighs softly and all the tension just drains right out of him. Ah, the power of moirallegiance.

“Thorry for blocking you,” he says softly and you giggle.

“It’s okay, you were upset,” you reply, petting the back of his neck. “I understand.”

Sollux sighs and looks back at his computer screen, which is open to one of his coding programs. He’s currently working on another code, but you have no idea what it means or what it’s supposed to do. This type of thing just goes right over your head.

“I jutht don’t underthtand what we did wrong,” he says. “We were tho careful not to let anyone who wathnt on our thide know about the rebellion, tho how could thith have happened?”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” you hum.

“I didn’t make a fucking mithtake!” Sollux flares, a sharp growl starting in his chest and his claws digging into your shoulders as he tries to push you away and pull you closer simultaneously.

“I never said you did,” you reply, continuing to pet his back soothingly. “I only meant that someone, somewhere made a mistake, and it easily could have been any of us.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then;

“What do I do, AA?” Sollux asks, and he sounds sort of choked up.

You pull away and see golden tears shining on his cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, gently wiping the tears away with your thumbs. “I guess we’ll just do the best we can to survive. There’s nothing else we _can_ do.”

“We could run away,” Sollux says, looking straight up into your eyes. “Leth run away, AA. Run away with me.”

You shake your head firmly.

“And go where?” you ask him. “There’s nothing out there for us, Sollux. If we run, the Capital will capture us and then we’re dead no matter which way you slice it! And besides, _how can you even suggest that, we are not going to abandon our friends!!!!_ ”

“I know, I know,” Sollux sighs. “I’m being thtupid.”

“Yes, you are,” you say, glaring because _how dare he suggest such a thing_ , but then your eyes soften a bit.

“You’re scared,” you say. “You’re allowed to be stupid when you’re scared, just as long as you don’t completely lose your head, and that’s what I’m here to make sure _doesn’t_ happen.”

Sollux chuckles weakly.

“Thankth, AA.”


	2. We're Going Through These Assholes Like Candy: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's meet the rest of these assholes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay I finally finished chapter 2! Things might finally start moving along at a faster pace now that I'm done introducing all 26 of these assholes.

So far the only assholes you’ve met have been trolls, so how about we meet some of the humans today?

 

=> Lets meet John

You are now JONI ECKHART and you live in DISTRICT EIGHT with your cousin, JASMINE CROK. Your house is pretty small, but you and Jasmine don’t really need a whole lot of space, so you’re okay with it. You have a lot of INTERESTS, like PRANKING, BAKING, and WATCHING ALL YOUR FAVORITE MOVIES. Your favorite is CON AIR, something you share in common with your friend, JOHN EGBERT. You are surprisingly STRONG, so you fight with a LARGE SLEDGEHAMMER. While most people would struggle to even swing the thing, you have no trouble at all.

Your wear a DARK BLUE SLIME GHOST on your favorite shirt, so you guess that’s your SIGN. Apparently, wearing signs on their clothes in the color of their blood is a troll thing? Your eyes are DARK BLUE and you have a shitton of FRECKLES on the bridge of your nose and a few spilling over onto your cheeks. Your skin is kind of TAN, from working outside so much, and your hair is JET BLACK and STICKS UP ALL OVER THE PLACE. You are pretty TALL with BROAD SHOULDERS, which makes sense when you fight with a HAMMER.

 

=> WRONG JOHN!

Oh... whoops. Well, this is awkward.

 

=> Where’s the other John?

You are now JOHN EGBERT and you live in DISTRICT SIX with your DAD. You have a nice size house, because your dad is a MERCHANT and makes a decent income. You have a variety of INTERESTS, biggest of which is PRANKS. You are a huge fan of COLONEL SASSACRE’S and keep his HUGE TOME in your MAGIC CHEST. You have a passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES. You like to program computers but you are NOT VERY GOOD AT IT. You have a fondness for PARANORMAL LORE, and are an aspiring AMATEUR MAGICIAN. You also like to play GAMES sometimes. You wield a HAMMER, but, if you are being PERFECTLY HONEST WITH YOURSELF, it was not your FIRST CHOICE of a WEAPON. Nor was it your SECOND. You just picked it up one day and BAM! HAMMERKIND!

You wear a GREEN SLIMER on your favorite T-SHIRT. It is also the LOGO on many of your other clothes as well. Your eyes are BRIGHT BLUE and your cheeks are littered with ADORABLE FRECKLES. Well, your friend JANE CROCKER thinks they’re adorable at least. You wear BLACK, SQUARE-FRAME GLASSES that you are REALLY LUCKY to even have. Your hair is MESSY and BLACK and doesn’t ever LIE FLAT. You’re TALL and SKINNY, but surprisingly STRONG.

What will you do?

 

=> John: Squawk like an imbecile and shit on your desk.

This is the dumbest idea you've had in weeks!!!

STUPID STUPID STUPID.

And yet the polished surface of your desk...

It beckons.

 

=> John: Be the Jane Human

You are now the JANE HUMAN.

REALLY?! Really, with the JANE HUMAN?

THAT’S NOT YOUR NAME!!!

 

==>

Your name is JANE CROCKER and you live in DISTRICT SIX with your DAD. You have a pretty nice house that’s PLENTY BIG for the entirety of your TWO PERSON FAMILY. Though you guess that probably comes with the territory of being the HEIRESS APPARENT TO A BAKED GOODS EMPIRE. It should come as no surprise that you enjoy BAKING, but you also adore reading DETECTIVE STORIES. You fancy yourself a SKILLED PRANKSTRESS, if by no other measure than lineage. Though at times you feel it's tough to fill those shoes when you are SURROUNDED BY JOKERS. Seriously, the shenanigans perpetrated by your pals make your old school japes feel KIND OF PEDESTRIAN SOMETIMES, but oh well, you love them all anyway. Your STRIFE SPECIBUS is set to SPOONKIND, but it can change to FORKKIND and SPORKKIND as well. You mostly use it for BAKING, because when are you ever going to need to fight?

You wear an ELECTRIC BLUE FRIGHTENING BEAST on most ALL YOUR SHIRTS, but not on your DRESS CLOTHES. You have to draw the line somewhere. Your eyes are SKY BLUE and framed by SNAZZY, ROUND RED GLASSES. Your hair is BLACK and CROPPED SHORT, to keep it out of the way when you’re WORKING. You’re SHORT and PLUMP, with lots of CURVES and, even though you’re a bit SELF CONSCIOUS about your weight, no one has ever teased you about it.

Hmm... now what should you do?

 

=> Let’s be someone else

Really? Wow, we’re going through these assholes like candy.

You don’t know any more names of the humans, so now what are you going to do?

 

=> Be Terezi

Oh... I guess you did learn her name back when Sanier mentioned her...

FUCK

 

==>

You are now TEREZI PYROPE and you live in DISTRICT TWO with your lusus, PYRALSPITE. Your hive is SMALL, but it’s also IN A TREE, so you think that makes up for it. You are pretty enthusiastic about dragons. But you have a PARTICULAR AFFECTION for their COLORFUL SCALES, which you gather and use to decorate your hive. Though you live alone, deep in the woods, you surround yourself with a variety of plushie pals known as SCALEMATES. You often spend your nights with them in rounds of LIVE ACTION ROLE PLAYING. You also take an interest in justice, holding particular fascination for ORCHESTRATING THE DEMISE OF THE WICKED. You have taken up study of BRUTAL ALTERNIAN LAW, and surround yourself with legal books. You aspire to be a PEACEKEEPER when you grow up, and you will no doubt be the VERY BEST. You fight with a CANE, but inside are concealed TWO LETHAL BLADES, which you can DUEL WIELD.

Your sign is LIBRA, which you showcase in TEAL on your BLACK SHIRT. Your eyes are DARK GREY because you’re only SEVEN SWEEPS and you’re not nearly old enough for your color to be coming in yet. Your skin is a delicate shade of GREY and your hair is SHOULDER LENGTH and BLACK, and flips up at the bottom. You are AVERAGE HEIGHT and TERRIBLY THIN. People often comment that you are SHARP, from your RED SHADES, to your POINTY TEETH, to you ANGULAR BODY. You take this as a compliment.

Okay, now you’re out of names, so what will you make Terezi do?

 

=> Terezi: Pester some chums.

You power on your cellphone and open Pesterchum. It’s pretty late, so you’re not expecting anyone to be online, but low and behold! The very person you were hoping to pester is online.

 

==>

gallowsCalibrator [GC]  began pestering  turntechGodhead [TG]

GC: H3YYYYYYYYYY COOLK1D >:]

TG: sup

GC: NOTH1NG MUCH 4CTU4LLY.  
GC: JUST F3LT L1K3 T4LK1NG.  
GC: WH4TS UP W1TH YOU?

TG: nothin  
TG: did you watch the announcement for this years quarter quell rules

GC: Y3P >:[  
GC: 1TS 4LL 4NYBODY C4N T4LK 4BOUT!

TG: yup  
TG: to be honest  
TG: i dont see how it really affects us  
TG: we have to be in the reaping either way  
TG: the only thing different is that if we get picked  
TG: nobody can volunteer in our place  
TG: which really isnt much different from usual anyways  
TG: at least in my case

GC: Y34H 1TS TH3 S4M3 ON MY 3ND >:[  
GC: 1 GU3SS 1D L1K3 TO TH1NK 1 H4V3 SOM3 PR3TTY GOOD FR13NDS H3R3  
GC: BUT TH3 TRUTH 1S, 1 DONT TH1NK ANYON3 WOULD VOLUNT33R 1N MY PL4C3 31TH3R W4Y.

TG: yeah but you live in d2  
TG: thats one of the career districts  
TG: dont the people up there get in like fights over who gets to be tribute???

GC: H3H3H3H3H3H3 >:]  
GC: Y3S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
GC: 1TS SO FUNNY TO W4TCH SOM3 Y34RS!  
GC: 3SP3C14LLY WH3N TH3 P34C3K33P3RS C4NT G3T 1T UND3R CONTROL.  
GC: L1K3, WH3N 1M 4 P34C3K33P3R, 1LL DO 4 W4Y B3TT3R JOB OF K33P1NG TH3 P34C3 TH4N TH3Y DO!

TG: im sure you will  
TG: youll be all  
TG: peacekeeper tz coming through  
TG: shooshing the haters  
TG: and papping the rabble rousers  
TG: best peacekeeper this horrific state has ever known

GC: >:]

TG: oh fuck

GC: WH4T?

TG: oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

GC: HOLY FUCK!  
GC: 4R3 YOU JUST HOLD1NG DOWN CONTROL V OR SOM3TH1NG?  
GC: K4Z TH3R3S NO W4Y YOU C4N TYP3 FUCK TH4T F4ST, TH4T M4NY T1M3S 1N 4 ROW W1THOUT M1SSP3LL1NG 1T 4T L3AST ONC3!!!

TG: you caught me  
TG: i was holding down ctrl v and just letting the fucks build up  
TG: but more importantly  
TG: did you see the memo ag just posted???

GC: UH... NO??  
GC: WH4TS 1T S4Y?  
GC: 4CTU4LLY... N3V3RM1ND  
GC: 1LL JUST F1ND 1T MYS3LF

TG: k  
TG: message me when youve read it

GC: YOU GOT 1T COOLK1D >;]

gallowsCalibrator [GC]  ceased pestering  turntechGodhead [TG]

 

==>

You are now turntechGodhead, which, obviously, is not your real name.

Your name is way cooler than that, which should be physically impossible.

Because there is no name cooler than turntechGodhead.

 

==>

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you live in DISTRICT FIVE with your AUNT, who you kind of HATE. You would honestly much rather live with your UNCLE and sister, ROSE LALONDE. You live on the top floor of an APARTMENT COMPLEX and are lucky enough to have a ROOM TO YOURSELF. It is an UNSEASONABLY WARM day, so your BEDROOM WINDOW is open to let some air in, and your FAN is cranked. Arguably even more cranked would be your FLY BEATS, which brings us to your variety of INTERESTS. A cool dude like you is sure to have plenty. You have a penchant for spinning out UNBELIEVABLY ILL JAMS with your TURNTABLES AND MIXING GEAR. You like to rave about BANDS NO ONE'S EVER HEARD OF BUT YOU. You collect WEIRD DEAD THINGS PRESERVED IN VARIOUS WAYS. You are an AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER and operate your own MAKESHIFT DARKROOM. You maintain a number of IRONICALLY HUMOROUS BLOGS, WEBSITES, AND SOCIAL NETWORKING PROFILES. And if the inspiration strikes, you won't hesitate to drop some PHAT RHYMES on a mofo and REPRESENT. Your STRIFE SPECIBUS is equipped with several UNBELIEVABLY SHITTY SWORDS that you tend to BREAK A LOT.

You wear a BLACK RECORD on your favorite RED T-SHIRT, because you LOVE music. Your skin is REALLY PALE, which doesn’t make a lot of sense when you think about it. You don’t spend that much time cooped up in your room. Or... maybe you do? It doesn’t matter that much anyways. Your eyes are STARTLINGLY RED and you would keep them covered with SWEET SHADES if you had any. Your hair is WHITE BLONDE and you keep it styled FLAT with SICK SIDEBURNS. You’re pretty TALL and kinda SCRAWNY, but you’re a lot STRONGER THAN YOU LOOK.

What now?

 

=> Dave: Be Rose

You are now ROSE LALONDE and you live in DISTRICT FIVE with your UNCLE, who you aren’t really that close to, but don’t dislike or anything. You live in a LARGE house on top of a HILL, and you sometimes think it’s HAUNTED. You have a variety of INTERESTS. You have a passion for RATHER OBSCURE LITERATURE. You enjoy creative writing and are SOMEWHAT SECRETIVE ABOUT IT. You have a fondness for the BESTIALLY STRANGE AND FICTITIOUS, and sometimes dabble in PSYCHOANALYSIS. You also like to KNIT, which brings to mind your STRIFE SPECIBUS, which is armed with KNITTING NEEDLES. They are very SHARP and QUITE DANGEROUS and may or may not also be MAGICAL.

You wear a LAVENDER SQUID on most of your outfits, but you insist that it’s actually FLUTHLU (a horrorterror that is actually really small despite it gigantic size). Your eyes are PURPLE and your hair is WHITE BLONDE and styled in a SHORT BOB-CUT. You are PETITE and SLIM, with SLENDER CURVES and BUILD.

You actually have another elder BROTHER and SISTER in DISTRICT THREE, who were born in an experiment done by the CONDESCE to see if she could control HUMAN REPRODUCTION like she did TROLL’S. Needless to say, the experiment failed, and the CONDESCE ended up speeding up TROLL REPRODUCTION to keep up with the HUMANS.

Now that you have learned this bit of information, which sibling would you like to be? Since you obviously won’t be continuing to be Rose.

 

=> Let’s meet the Brother

You are now DIRK STRIDER and you live in DISTRICT THREE. You are pretty much on your own, but you do have two ROBOTS you built to RAP WITH. You live in an APARTMENT COMPLEX that is pretty much just the TOP FLOOR on some metal support beams in the MIDDLE OF THE LAKE. You have a variety of INTERESTS, like PUPPETS, for instance. Holy SHIT do you love PUPPETS. You dig writing COGNITIVE ALGORITHMS FOR SAID APOCRYPHAL MEN, and you think maybe that's FUCKIN' DOPE. Guess what else is dope? Everything ELSE YOU DO. You're a sickwicked autodidact on ANCIENT CIVILIZATIONS, a selfmade MASTER OF MYTHOLOGUE, and a PRETERNATURAL POPCULTURE ACADEME. You're cool with dabbling in the FINE SEQUENTIAL ARTS, and your work could be viewed by some as BORDERLINE PORNOGRAPHIC. Against the better judgment of one your age, you BUILD ROBOTS, SET THEM TO KILL MODE, AND SPAR WITH THEM TO DEATH. That is, when you're not DUELING THEM WITH RAP LYRICS. You fight with an UNBREAKABLE KATANA and are REALLY FUCKIN’ FAST with your FLASHSTEP.

You wear an ORANGE HAT on all of your shirts, and not because of that whole sign in your blood color thing the trolls have going on. You just think hats are FUCKIN’ COOL. Like your BRO in DISTRICT FIVE, you are really FUCKIN’ PALE and it’s kind of fucked up since you are up on the roof DUELING ROBOTS all the fucking time. Your eyes are ORANGE (like a fuckin’ orange), and you keep your WHITE BLONDE hair styled up and kinda SPIKY. You are TALL and THIN, with rather BROAD SHOULDERS.

Now what will you do?

 

=> Dirk: Be the other sister

You are now ROXY LALONDE and you live in DISTRICT THREE. Like your brother, DIRK, you are pretty much on your own, with the exception of a few MUTANT KITTENS. Your CAT FRIEND from DISTRICT TEN swears she will one day come and steal them. You live in a large MANSION in the middle of a CHECKERBOARD NEIGHBORHOOD of other houses identical to yours. You are told it is a more prosperous part of the district. You have plenty of INTERESTS, like WIZARDS, for instance. God DAMN do you love WIZARDS. You wish and hope they are REAL, and that so too is their MAJYYKS AND STUFF. You enjoy writing FANPROSE FOR SAID MAGICAL MEN, but you think maybe it's NOT SO GREAT. You aren't one to shy from A BIT OF GAMING, particularly the sort WELL PAST ITS PRIME; you have a real soft spot for OLD SCHOOL TECHNOLOGY. It is fair to say most of your leanings are governed by a BENT FOR NOSTALGIA. Your coding cred is totes ridic, basically making you the HOTTEST SHIT HAXXOR BITCH YOU EVER KNEW, as deadaly* to the grid ass* she is beatuiful*. You are known to nonseldomly employ a ROGUISH DEMEANOR toward the FELLAS, a habit not especially jeopardized by your noninfrequent INEBRIATION. Which is to say, against the better judgment of one your age, you like to DIP INTO THE SAUCE now and then. You fight with a really BADASS RIFLE and occasionally resort to your FISTKIND abstratus, because it’s only practical to know how to fight with your fists.

Your sign is a MUTANT KITTEN, which you wear in PINK on quite a bit of your clothing. Your eyes are HOT PINK and your WHITE BLONDE hair is rather curly and flippant. You are AVERAGE HEIGHT and CURVY SWIRVY, but rather THIN. Your friends assure you that you have a LOVELY figure.

What will you do?

 

=> Roxy: Be the cat friend

You are now NEPETA LEJION and you live in DISTRICT TEN with your lusus, POUNCE DE LEON. You live in a CAVE that is also a HIVE, but still mostly just a CAVE. You like to engage in FRIENDLY ROLE PLAYING, but not the DANGEROUS KIND. Never the DANGEROUS KIND. It's TOO DANGEROUS! Your daily routine is dangerous enough as it is. You prowl the wilderness for GREAT BEASTS, and stalk them and take them down with nothing but your SHARP CLAWS AND TEETH! You take them back to your cave and EAT THEM, and from time to time, WEAR THEIR PELTS FOR FUN. You like to paint WALL COMICS using blood and soot and ash, depicting EXCITING TALES FROM THE HUNT! And other goofy stories about you and your numerous pals. You also religiously keep a SHIPPING WALL, keeping track of all your friends’ relationships with it. As mentioned, you fight using these really nifty CLAW GLOVES. You made them yourself, so you know they aren’t the best, but they get the job done.

Your sign is LEO, which you wear on your OLIVE GREEN TRENCHCOAT. Your cat-like eyes are DARK GREY because you’re only SIX SWEEPS, but when you get older, your OLIVE blood color will start coming in. Your skin is a really DARK shade of GREY, because you’re outside all the time. Your hair is BLACK, CURLY, and MESSY, mainly because you keep it under a BLUE CAT HAT all the time. You are really SHORT, even for a HUMAN! You suppose you will probably get a lot bigger before your ADULT PUPATION though. Despite being so SMALL, you are quite STRONG and have been known to WRESTLE with WILDCATS. You are also rather THIN and have a slightly BOYISH frame and build. You have been mistaken for a boy many times.

What will you do?

 

=>Nepeta: Do something adorable.

You crouch behind a rock, watching your prey with bright grey and yellow eyes. Your tongue darts out to wet your thin, black lips. Slowly, silently, you creep forward on all fours, keeping your eyes on your prey.

The large, snow white feline that is your prey slumbers peacefully, completely oblivious to the danger you present.

Your long, blue tail—a mutation unique to you and your ancestor—twitches slightly as you prepare to pounce.

With a loud cry, you spring into the air and pounce on your startled lusus.

Despite the surprise attack, your lusus is much stronger than you and easily defeats you. Letting out a deep, throaty chuckle, Pounce opens one of her two mouths and licks your cheek affectionately.

“Awe, Pounce, you nefurr let mew win!” You pout, but snuggle up to your lusus anyways.

Instead of answering, Pounce simply gives a rumbling purr that you can feel as you lean against her, a cat-like grin on your face.

You lean your head back, using Pounce as a pillow, close your eyes, and start up a light purr of your own. When trolls are content or sleeping peacefully, they purr, but you tend to purr more than the average troll. It’s earned you the nickname “Motorboat” from your friend Tavros.

You are just beginning to drift off when you hear a tentative knock on your door.

Who could that be?

 

=> Nepeta: Answer the door

You yawn and stretch like a cat before padding across your cave to the door. You open it to find—speak of the devil!—your friend Tavros Nitram standing there.

“H-hey, Nep...” he stammers shyly.

“Hey Tav!” you reply cheerfuly. “What’s up?”

“Well, um, I figured you probably hadn’t heard the, uh, news yet,” he says.

You frown. What news? The Quarter Quell rules? No, that can’t be it. Those are mandatory to watch, so Tavros would know you knew about those already. What could the news he’s referring to be?

“I can’t say that I have,” you say.

Tavros swallows and looks away, but you catch the fear in his eyes and you wonder briefly what he’s afraid of. Certainly not you! You are about the least threatening troll in appearance, and Tavros knows you personally. He knows he has nothing to be afraid of with you.

“It’s about the Games,” Tavros says softly, and you know instantly that he’s talking about the Hunger Games. “Th-they’re rigged.”

Your heart literally stops beating for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“Vriska opened a memo about it,” Tavros sighs. “Apparently, the two of us in every district that are in on Sollux’s rebellion are going to be the only names entered for the reaping. So we’re basically guaranteed a spot in the Games this year.”

You have to reach out and steady yourself on the wall of the cave. As you stumble slightly, Tavros reaches out a hand to catch you if you fall. He looks worried and you feel a rush of gratitude for him.

“I-I’m okay,” you assure him. “I... Thanks fur telling me.”

You give a weak laugh and Tavros narrows his eyes at you.

“Really, I’m okay,” you repeat, smiling.

“You sure?” Tavros asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “I mean, it’s a little frightening and ofurr-whelming, but I’ll be okay.”

“Do... do you want some company tonight?” Tavros asks and, again, you feel that rush of gratitude towards him. Tavros really is the best friend.

“No. Thank you,” you say, shaking your head. “Besides, I’m sure you would much rather spend your last night with Tinkerbull.”

Tavros nods, not so much in agreement as it is just nodding for something to do.

With one last smile, you close the door and sink down against it. You’re going to be in the Hunger Games. Which means you’re probably going to be dead within the perigee. It’s a lot to take in, and you don’t think you’ve fully absorbed the information yet.

Once it does finally sink in, you suppose you will probably start crying uncontrollably. But, until then, you will just sit here with your knees pulled up to your chest.

You’re going to zone out for a while, so you think it’s time to go be someone else.

 

=> Nepeta: Be Tavros

You are now TAVROS NITRAM and you live in DISTRICT TEN with your lusus, TINKERBULL. Your hive is a decent size, but it is also part BARN, so you guess that’s why. You are known to be heavily arrested by FAIRY TALES AND FANTASY STORIES. You have an acute ability to COMMUNE WITH THE MANY CREATURES OF PANEM, a skill you have utilized to CAPTURE AND TRAIN a great many. They are all your friends, as well as your warriors, which you pit in battle through a variety of related CARD AND ROLE PLAYING GAMES. You like to engage in the noble practice of PANEM SLAM POETRY, possibly the oldest, most revered, and certainly freshest artform in your country’s rich history. You have a profound fascination with the concept of FLIGHT, and all lore surrounding the topic. You believe in FAIRIES, even though they AREN'T REAL. You fight with a LANCE, and you like to think you’re PRETTY DARN GOOD with it.

Your sign is TAURUS, which you wear in BROWN on your black coat. Your eyes are DARK GREY because you’re only SEVEN SWEEPS and your color won’t start coming in for another sweep and a half at least. Your skin is a nice shade of GREY, not to dark and not to light. Your hair is BLACK and you style it in a MOHAWK, because your GIANT HORNS stick out the side of your head like a pair of HANDLEBARS. You are really quite TALL, despite your low blood. You are also rather THIN with a SLIGHTLY FEMININE BUILD.

 

==>

You are currently standing in front of the closed door to the hive-cave of one of your closest friends. You hear a soft, hiccupping sound from behind the door, and almost turn back, but Nepeta needs to be alone right now you think and you kind of want to go home too.

So you turn and make your way back down the narrow pathway against the edge of a cliff. You sometimes hate the fact that Nepeta’s hive is located so far up the side of a flipping mountain, but it keeps you in shape so that’s a plus you guess?

 

=> Tavros: Think about some of your friends we haven’t met yet

You have a lot of great friends. Even more so now after meeting Sollux and the others that you talk to sometimes on your cellphone. There’s this really sweet lady in District 8 named Kanaya. She’s like the mother figure to your entire group of mismatched kids. You also like this other girl, Jade. She’s an animal lover, like you, and she’s also really nice to everyone and you like that. Another person who is really nice to everyone is Feferi. Feferi is the only one in your group whose ancestor was not killed in the same Hunger Games as Sollux’s (besides Gamzee, you guess). Actually, her ancestor wasn’t even IN the Hunger Games. Feferi is the descendant of the Condesce herself, and was banished from the Capital after she struck out against the Condesce. That’s basically the reason Sollux included her in your group.

There are others as well (you don’t hang out with only girls!), like Dani, Equius, Jake, Lairae, Jenn, and Rena. You like all of them, though you like some more the others (Equius, for example).

You guess you’re gonna go be someone else now, huh? Because you’re obviously not confident enough for the reader to continue being you. So who would you like to be now?

 

=> Let’s meet Kanaya

You are now KANAYA MARYAM and you live in DISTRICT EIGHT with your lusus, MOTHER GRUB. You are one of the few of your kind who has taken a shining to LANDSCAPING. You have cultivated a lush oasis around your hive, and in particular, you have honed your craft through the art of TOPIARY, sculpting your trees to match the PUFFY ORACLES from your dreams. You decorate your hive with FLORA and FABRIC, as delicately or aggressively as inspiration demands. You indulge in your bright fascination with the grim through literature. Just before the sun goes down and you join your flora in rest, you immerse yourself in tales of RAINBOW DRINKERS and SHADOW DROPPERS and FORBIDDEN PASSION. You are one of the few of your kind who has developed a zeal for FASHION and DESIGN and LIVELY COLORFUL PATTERNS. You are a SEAMSTRESS or a RAGRIPPER or a TREETRIMMER or a LUMBERJACK, whichever you care to be, and your unique hive is equipped with a great supply of advanced technology to accommodate your interests. Your weapon of choice is a CHAINSAW, which is also, conveniently, a TUBE OF LIPSTICK.

Your sign is VIRGO, and you wear it in JADE GREEN on every one of your VASTLY COLORFUL CLOTHING DESIGNS. Your eyes have just begun to change from grey to the jade green of your BLOOD and your skinny is a HEALTHY shade of DARK GREY from spending so much time outside IN THE SUN. Your hair is BLACK and styled in a very neat and tidy BOBCUT, that is also very STYLISH. You have a rather MOTHERLY FIGURE, with large and well-rounded hips and breasts. You are also quite TALL and THIN.

What will you do?

 

=> Kanaya: Continue to go through these assholes like candy

Calling people assholes isn’t very nice, you know.

Who do you want to be?

 

=> Lets be Jade

You are now JADE HARLEY and you live in DISTRICT ELEVEN with your dog (who you are told is a LUSUS), BEC. You live in a BIG HOUSE right next to a MOUNTAIN that you like to pretend is a VOLCANO. You have quite a number of INTERESTS. So many in fact, you have trouble keeping track of them all, even with an assortment of COLORFUL REMINDERS on your fingers to help you sort out everything on your mind. You tend to have a lot of things on your mind at once, and you can be a little forgetful. So you keep a variety of COLORED STRINGS on your fingers as reminders. Each one means there is something different to remember at a certain time. You are an avid follower of CARTOON SHOWS OF CONSIDERABLE NOSTALGIC APPEAL. You have a profound zeal for marvelous and fantastical FAUNA OF AN ANTHROPOMORPHOLOGICAL PERSUASION. You have an uncanny knack for NUCLEAR PHYSICS, and not infrequently can be found dabbling in RATHER ADVANCED GADGETRY. You enjoy sporadic fits of NARCOLEPSY; your love of GARDENING transcends the glass confines of your ATRIUM; and you are at times prone to patterns of PRECOGNITIVE PROGNOSTICATION. You are a SKILLED MARKSWOMAN, though your cross-hairs would never settle on an innocent creature, ANTHROPOMORPHICALLY PERSUADED OR OTHERWISE.

You wear a GREEN DOG on all your shirts and outfits, because it REMINDS YOU OF BEC, who is your BEST FRIEND. Your eyes are GRASS GREEN and framed with LARGE, ROUND GLASSES. Your hair is BLACK, LONG, and VERY MESSY. You are ALWAYS FORGETTING to comb it. You are of AVERAGE HEIGHT, THIN, and rather WELL MUSCLED. It must be from lugging home the weight of your kills every time you and BEC go hunting.

Now who will you be? (Since we’re obviously continuing to go through these assholes like candy)

 

=> Jade: Be Feferi

You are now FEFERI PIEXES and you live in DISTRICT FOUR. Since you were BANISHED FROM THE CAPITAL by your ANCESTOR, the Condesce, just a few years ago, you do not have a LUSUS, nor a GUARDIAN of ANY KIND. The LOCALS have been pretty good about giving you a place to stay though. As long as you PULL YOUR OWN WEIGHT, which is something you find LAUGHABLY EASY. You are a SEA DWELLER. You have the most noble blood possible, the only of your kind known to possess it (besides the Condesce herself), and the only to share it with GL'BGOLYB, a deep sea monster also known as THE RIFT'S CARBUNCLE, EMISSARY TO THE HORRORTERRORS, or in more hushed tones, SPEAKER OF THE VAST GLUB. This makes you the HEIR APPARENT for Panem rulership, which ordinarily would place you in considerable jeopardy. However, since you have been BANISHED from the CAPITAL, Her Imperious Condescension clearly does not view you as a THREAT, which is a GRAVE MISTAKE on her part. You fight with a TRIDENT, like any HEIRESS to a THRONE, and are QUITE TALENTED WITH IT, if you do say so yourself.

Your sign PIECES, which you wear in TYRIAN PINK on your BLACK TANK TOP—the only piece of clothing you brought with you from the Capital. Your eyes are GREY, because you are still only EIGHT SWEEPS and your color has not begun to fill in yet. You like to wear TYRIAN PINK GOGGLES over your eyes, whether on land or in the water! Your hair tumbles all the way down to MID THIGHS in waves of BLACK CURLS. It is held back out of your face only by a GOLD HEADBAND. As a ROYAL BLOOD, you are AVERAGE HEIGHT and quite THIN, with a SEADWELLER BUILD. It makes it much easier to swim through the water at a fast pace!

Now who should we meet?

 

=> Feferi: Be Dani

You are now DANI STRIA and you live in DISTRICT TWELVE with your brother, DONATHAN. You live in a SHITTY APARTMENT COMPLEX, but you kinda LIKE IT. You have a variety of INTERESTS, like RAPPING, PHOTOGRAPHY, and MAKING SICK BEATS WITH YOUR TURNTABLES. You think MUSIC IS RAD. Your STRIFE SPECIBUS is armed with a LEGENDARY PIECE OF SHIT SWORD that broke the very first time you used it. You keep meaning to replace it, but you are always forgetting.

Your wear a BLOOD RED RECORD on your favorite BLACK SHIRT. Your eyes are DARK RED and rather sensitive to light, so you CONCEAL THEM with BLACK AVIATORS. You are very PALE SKINNED and your hair is GOLD. You think that’s because of the UNIQUE TYPE OF ALBINISM that runs in your family. You are TALL and THIN with a SLIGHTLY FEMININE BUILD.

What will you do now?

 

=> Dani: Be Rena

Your name is RENA LANADI and you live in DISTRICT TWELVE with your sister, ROSALYN. Your house is pretty big, and you can NEVER figure out why you and your sister would need that much space! You have tried numerous times to invite your BEST FRIEND AND SOUL TWIN, DANI STRIA to live with you, but he insists that HE’S HAPPY IN HIS SHITTY APARTMENT. You have a number of INTERESTS, like WRITING, CODING, and READING BOOKS ABOUT MAGICAL MEN. You fight with a pair of LETHAL KNITTING NEEDLES that you took from your sister.

Your wear a PURPLE CAT on most of your clothes, because you, like many of your friends, LOVE CATS. Your eyes are DARK PURPLE and you think they are really cute, so you don’t hide them, despite their sensitivity to light. You are quite PALE and your hair is GOLD and styled in a PIXI CUT. You are the owner of a very TALL, WIRY FRAME with very few curves, a fact you find DISAPPOINTING to say the least.

Who would you like to meet next?

 

=> Let’s meet Equius

You are now EQUIUS ZAHHAK and you live in DISTRICT TWO with your lusus, ARTHUR. You love being STRONG. You also love PRACTICING ARCHERY. Unfortunately, you SUCK AT ARCHERY. You have not successfully fired a SINGLE ARROW. Every time you try, you BREAK THE BOW. You are simply too strong. You have broken so many bows, it has developed into a habit BORDERING ON FETISHISTIC. You have to stop. But addiction is a powerful thing. You have a great appreciation for THE FINE ARTS. You use your aristocratic connections to acquire PRICELESS MASTERPIECES, painted in the oldest and most respected Panem tradition of NUDE MUSCLEBEAST PORTRAITS. These striking depictions of the EXQUISITE FAUNA native to Panem remind you of the PUREST PHYSICAL IDEAL that must be sought by anyone who professes a LOVE OF STRENGTH. When those of lesser bloodlines turn up their uncultured noses at such stunning material, it MAKES YOU FURIOUS. Practically everything MAKES YOU FURIOUS. You have so much rage, it can only be expressed through STAGGERING QUANTITIES OF PHYSICAL VIOLENCE. You build strong and sturdy robots, set them to kill mode, and BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF THEM in caged brawls. Sometimes you LOSE TEETH. But they usually grow back.

Your sign is SAGITTARIUS, which you wear in INDIGO on ALL OF YOUR CLOTHES. ALL OF THEM. Even your WORKOUT CLOTHES, because there is never not a time when you are WORKING UP A SWEAT. The INDIGO of your eyes is JUST STARTING TO COME IN and there are DEEP BLUE BAGS under your eyes all the time from LACK OF SLEEP. You hide them with a pair of SQUARE SHADES that are very DAMAGED from your BRAWLS WITH ROBOTS. Your hair is BLACK, SHOULDER LENGTH, and GREASY, but, as a HIGHBLOOD, it is TRADITION not to cut your hair. You are a STICKLER FOR TRADITION. You are TALL and BUILT OF MUSCLE. You have a thicker build than the average Highblood, but are still fairly THIN.

What will you do now?

 

=> Equius: Be Jake

You are now JAKE ENGLISH and you live in DISTRICT ELEVEN with your GRANDMA. Your house is not far from your friend JADE’S house, but it is still pretty much in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. As a result, you have FEW REAL FRIENDS, though you consider EVERYONE to be your friend. You love movies. ALL MOVIES. You would describe your taste in film as ECLECTIC, but in truth, it isn't much less than TOTALLY INDISCRIMINATE. You bluster frequently of exuberance for FIREARMS and FISTICUFFS and ADVENTURE, though have no human company with which to share these interests. But who needs chums, when you can enjoy a top notch gander of your GALS OF CERULEAN COMPLEXION, HUBBA HUBBA. You're known to be found with your nose in a COMIC BOOK OR TWO, not that it makes you a nerd or anything, like you even CARE about that! Not a gent of your PANACHE AND SWAGGER, qualities which you would BANDY WITH APLOMB on your globe-spanning adventures, HYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING. You would love to travel around the world, toppling any SACRED URNS you encountered. You'd be tickled by the opportunity to defile HALLOWED TOMBS everywhere, raiding them of their treasures. And how you'd give your RIGHT LEG for a shot at desecrating THE SHIT out of some real life MYSTIC RUINS for their byzantine wares. Luckily for your limb, there is a dandy set of such ruins nearby, and you desecrate them quite frequently! You are also troubled to contemplate FRIGHTENING FAUNA, and plagued daily by their regrettable REALNESS ATTRIBUTE. What else? You sure like to WRESTLE. Did you mention FISTICUFFS yet? You know, SCRUMS AND WHATNOT. Also, SKULLS. Gosh you love SKULLS. There is a good SKULL at the heart of any mystery, haunting its EVERY PAGE. That is what you always say. Or at least, it is what you always HOPE.

It should come as no surprise that you wear a DARK GREEN SKULL on practically all of your clothes! JADE says the SKULL reminds her of something she once SAW IN A DREAM, but can’t remember what. You do not think it means anything OF IMPORTANCE. Your eyes are GREEN, framed by BLACK SQUARE glasses, and your skin is rather TAN, because you spend so much time outside EXPLORING. Your hair is BLACK and likes to STICK UP IN THE FRONT AND BACK, but you think it looks rather CHARMING. Much like your BUCK TEETH. You are quite TALL with BROAD SHOULDERS that boast of STRENGTH from your multiple BRAWLS with the FRIGHTENING FAUNA around here.

What will you do?

 

=> Jake: Be Jenn

You are now JENN HARLANDER and you live in DISTRICT FOUR with your cousin, JACOB ENGALS. You have a lot of INTERESTS, like HUNTING, ADVENTURES, and WATCHING EVERY MOVIE EVER MADE EVER. Your favorite is AVATAR, something you share in common with your friend, JAKE ENGLISH. You are more of a BOY than you are a GIRL, but the CAPITAL has never let you switch your name over to the BOYS BOWL, something that really PISSES YOU OFF. Your STRIFE SPECIBUS is LOCKED AND LOADED with a pair of PISTOLS, which you can DUEL WEILD LIKE A BOSS.

Your wear a FOREST GREEN DOG on your favorite JACKET. Your eyes are DARK GREEN and framed with OVAL GLASSES. Your skin is a DEEP TAN shade, because you are LITERALLY ALWAYS OUTSIDE, and your hair is DARK BROWN, LONG, and CURLY AS FUCK. To keep it out of your face, you wear it in a PONYTAIL all the time. You are AVERAGE HEIGHT and KINDA THIN, but you are way STRONGER THAN YOU LOOK.

There’s one last person to meet. Are you going to greet them?

 

=>Jenn: Be Lairae

Your name is LAIRAE SARTEL and you live in DISTRICT NINE with your lusus, HOWLMOM. Your hive is TINY, but it’s bigger than your friend KARKAT’S, so you’re okay with it. You have a multitude of INTERESTS, most of which have something to do with ARCHITECTURE. You like to BUILD STUFF out of WHATEVER MATERIALS YOU CAN FIND. You also enjoy READING LITERATURE OF EVERY KIND. You have never met a book you DIDN’T LIKE, which is more than you can say for PEOPLE. You are just NOT a PEOPLE PERSON. You fight with a SCYTHE like the BADASS MOTHERFUCKER you are, and NO ONE can beat you. You are just THAT FUCKING BADASS.

Your sign is CERES, which you wear in GREY on your favorite JACKET. Normally, your sign would be the same color as your BLOOD, but you’re not all too keen on showcasing your MUTANT SNOW WHITE BLOOD. You won’t be able to hide it much longer though, as your eyes are filling in WHITE. Your skin is a really PALE shade of GREY that’s almost WHITE, and you think that’s also because of your MUTANT BLOOD. Your hair is SILVERY GREY and likes to STICK UP ALL CURLY LIKE and HANG ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE. You are AVERAGE HEIGHT and UNGODLY SKINNY, but WAY STRONGER THAN YOU LOOK.

What will you do?

 

==>

You are currently _bang_ trying _bang_ to break down _BANG_ your best friend’s door “ _Karkat-fucking-Vantas, you open the fucking door right this fucking second, you fucking asshole!_ ”

Normally, you would not resort to using such crude language, but you get the feeling that Karkat respects you a little more when you don’t censor yourself. He’s certainly nicer to you.

Karkat is like your brother in more ways than one. You both have rare blood mutations, and you both share shark-like teeth that look like they could belong to a sea dweller were it not for the fact that you are absolutely positive YOU DO NOT HAVE GILLS. You are pretty sure you would have noticed if you had those abominations on your chest. Obviously, there’s no way of knowing with Karkat, since you’ve never seen him shirtless, but you’re pretty sure he’s just a normal land dweller too.

It is presently three in the morning, so you’re sure Karkat is asleep, but this is REALLY FUCKING IMPORTANT and NO IT CAN’T WAIT TILL FUCKING MORNING.

 

=> Karkat: Open the fucking door

“LARA, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IT IS THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING WHY THE HELL ARE YOU PRACTICALLY BREAKING DOWN MY FUCKING DOOR AT THREE IN THE MORNING?”

You are not nearly as mad at Lairae as you sound. You had, predictably, passed the fuck out in the middle of your romcom marathon and are kind of pissed off at yourself for that. If Lairae hadn’t come by and woke you up, you would have missed the final movie of the marathon, _Titanic_ , which is arguably the best human romance movie you have ever seen. So, to be honest, you should really be thanking Lairae for waking you up in time to watch it.

“Sorry, Mr. Crabby McJackass,” Lairae snarls sarcastically at you. “I know it’s three in the fucking morning, but I have some pretty damn important news that I doubt has reached you yet considering the fucking fact that you were _out cold_ and it only got to me about an hour ago.”

You blink at him, slowly waking up and calming down from your instinctive wake-up rage.

“So what’s the fucking news?” you ask, lowering your voice to a normal volume.

Lairae takes a deep breath, tilting his head back to look at the sky and run his fingers through fine, silvery grey hair. You recognize the action. He does this every time he has really big and upsetting news. You aren’t going to like what he has to say, are you.

“Vriska opened a fucking memo about two hours ago now, talking about what happened to her and Eridan after the announcement of the fucking Quarter Quell rules,” Lairae begins. “She said that she and Eridan were grabbed by a couple Peacekeepers and told that the fucking Condesce knows about our fucking rebellion and has rigged the fucking games so we get picked for the Hunger Games. You, me, and all our friends... we’re gonna be in the _fucking Hunger Games_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Good, bad, meh? 
> 
> I'm trying to decide what I should do for the reaping. Do you think I should just do Karkat's reaping and have him watch the other reapings on the TV? Or should I do each individual reaping separately (but still the same chapter)? There are benefits for both. With just Karkat's POV, I could get to the more exciting stuff faster and also be able to write more feelings into the chapter. With each reaping separate, I could get a few of the thoughts of everyone into the story. What do you guys think? Comment and let me know how you feel!


	3. Reaping, Reeving, and Grieving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look who's updating again! That's right; ME. I hope you assholes are happy. Hehe just kidding, you're not assholes you're lovely! Especially lovely for reading my story even though its HORRIBUBBLE AND TERRIBUBBLE AND I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW YOU PEOPLE CAN STOMACH THIS BULLSHIT WHY ARE YOU EVEN READING THIS YOU SICK FUCK. 
> 
> Sorry random Karkat rant.
> 
> E N J O Y !

Now that we’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time introducing all twenty-six of these assholes, it’s time to finally get on with the story.

Who should we get on with the story with?

 

=> Be Karkat

After and long and, honestly, disturbing conversation with Lairae, you are too fucking jittery and nervous to sleep. You finish your romcom marathon, but find yourself unable to focus on the movie. Morning and, with it, the Reaping Ceremony can’t come soon enough.

Now that you know what the outcome will be, you just want to get the fuck over with the inevitable. No use prolonging your suffering. The longer you have to wait, the closer you come to losing all your shit. You almost want to pester Gamzee just to talk about your feelings, but he’s probably asleep by now.

Suddenly, a horrible thought strikes you: _What if Gamzee doesn’t know yet?_ Shit. Now you _have_ to message him.

 

=> Karkat: Pester your moirail!

carcinoGeneticist [CG]  began pestering  terminallyCapricious [TC]

CG: HEY FUCKASS  
CG: YOU THERE?  
CG: I NEED TO TALK TO YOU  
CG: I AM LITERALLY ABOUT TO FLIP ALL MY SHIT  
CG: I AM LIKE FIVE FUCKING SECONDS AWAY FROM DOING AN ACROBATIC PIROUETTE OFF THE FUCKING HANDLE  
CG: AND IT WILL BE FUCKING AMAZING.  
CG: SERIOUSLY. THIS IS KIND OF FUCKING IMPORTANT

TC: HaHa Im HeRe BrO :o)  
TC: WhAtS aLl Up AnD tWiStInG yOuR mOtHeRfUcKiNg HaRsHwHiMsIeS?

CG: HAS ANYBODY TOLD YOU THE NEWS YET?

TC: WhIcH nEwS bRoThEr?  
TC: ThErEs BeEn A lOt Of MoThErFuCkInG nEwS tO bE aLl Up AnD mOtHeRfUcKiNg GeTtInG tOdAy.

CG: THE ONE ABOUT THE FUCKING REAPING CEREMONY

TC: Oh YeAh  
TC: SaNi MoThErFuCkInG tOlD mE aBoUt ThAt.  
TC: FuNnY tHiNg BrOtHeR  
TC: tWiStEd SiStEr SuSpEcTeD sOmEtHiNg WaS uP bEfOrE aNy OtHeR mOtHeRfUcKeR gUeSsEd SoMeThInG wAs AlL uP aNd MoThErFuCkInG wRoNg.

CG: YEAH WELL SANI IS FUCKING WEIRD LIKE THAT  
CG: WHO THE HELL EVEN GIVES A FUCK HOW SHE JUST FUCKING KNOW SHIT LIKE THAT ANYWAYS.  
CG: ANYWAYS, IM GLAD YOU ALREADY FUCKING KNOW WHATS HAPPENING.  
CG: IT MEANS I DONT HAVE TO SPEND A FUCKING LUDICROUS AMOUNT OF TIME TRYING TO FUCKING EXPLAIN IT TO YOU.  
CG: IT MEANS I CAN JUST GET STRAIGHT TO THE POINT OF FLYING OFF THE FUCKING HANDLE LIKE A GOGDAMN BOSS.

TC: AwE bRoThEr DoNt AlL uP aNd Be MoThErFuCkInG dOiNg ThAt  
TC: I mEaN iM kInDa MoThErFuCkInG eXcItEd!  
TC: I gEt To MoThErFuCkInG mEeT yOu! :oD

CG: YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT!  
CG: YOURE ACTUALLY EXCITED TO BE IN THE FUCKING HUNGER GAMES BECAUSE YOU GET TO MEET YOUR FUCKING MOIRAIL, WHO IS ALSO GOING TO BE IN THE HUNGER GAMES, IN PERSON  
CG: WHEN YOU WOULD HAVE FUCKING MET ME IN LESS THAN A FUCKING YEAR WHEN YOU FUCKING TRANSFERRED TO FUCKING DISTRICT NINE WITH ME!!!  
CG: LETS TAKE A MOMENT TO LOOK AT WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.

TC: SoRrY bRo :o(  
TC: JuSt AlL uP aNd TrYiNg To LoOk On ThE mOtHeRfUcKiNg BrIgHt SiDe

CG: OH YES  
CG: BECAUSE THERE IS *TOTALLY* A “BRIGHT SIDE” TO THIS ASSFUCK OF A SITUATION  
CG: NOTE MY FUCKING SARCASM

TC: JuSt ChIlL tHe MoThErFuCk OuT bRo  
TC: ThErEs AlWaYs A mOtHeRfUcKiNg BrIgHt SiDe To EvErY mOtHeRfUcKiNg SiTuAtIoN

CG: LET ME GUESS  
CG: MIRACLES

TC: HaHa ThAt WaSnT wHaT i WaS aLl Up AnD mOtHeRfUcKiNg GeTtInG aT  
TC: bUt MiRaClEs WoRkS tOo!  
TC: HoNk! :oD

CG: AND THERE IT GOES  
CG: MY PATIENCE FOR YOU AND YOUR FUCKING MIRACLES HAS LEFT THE BUILDING  
CG: IM FUCKING WAVING TO IT AS IT FUCKING PASSES ME BY  
CG: GOODBYE PATIENCE  
CG: IT WAS NICE KNOWING YOU

TC: HaHa AlRiGhT bRo :o)  
TC: WaNt Me To MoThErFuCkInG lEaVe YoU aLoNe FoR nOw?

CG: FUCK  
CG: NO. SHIT NO.  
CG: YOU DONT HAVE TO LEAVE OKAY?  
CG: ITS FUCKING FINE  
CG: IM JUST BEING A FUCKING ASSHOLE LIKE FUCKING ALWAYS

TC: AwE bRo YoUrE nEvEr A mOtHeRfUcKiNg AsShOlE :o)  
TC: YoUrE aLwAyS a SwEeT aS sUgAr LiTtLe MoThErFuCkEr In My OpInIoN  
TC: <>

CG: THIS COMING FROM THE GUY WHO THINKS OF EVERY SINGLE PERSON HE MEETS AS A FRIEND  
CG: ...  
CG: FUCK. SORRY IM BEING AN ASSHOLE AGAIN  
CG: I DONT KNOW HOW THE FUCK YOU PUT UP WITH MY SHIT

TC: MaN tHaT mOtHeRfUcKiNg ShIt AiNt EvEn NeAr To AcCuRaCy  
TC: YoUrE tHe MoThErFuCkInG bEsT!  
TC: BeSt FrIeNd In ThE mOtHeRfUcKiNg UnIvErSe!  
TC: I pUt Up WiTh YoUr MoThErFuCkInG sHiT cAuSe YoUrE mY mOiRaIl AnD iTs My MoThErFuCkInG jOb To Be AlL uP aNd TaKiNg CaRe Of My PaLeBrO  
TC: aNd YoU pUt Up WiTh Me AnD mY sHiT tOo :o)  
TC: NoW tElL mE wHaTs GoT tHaT mIrAcUlOuS tHiNkPaN oF yOuRs In A tWiSt

 

==>

You spend the rest of the night talking to Gamzee about anything and everything that pops into your head. You tell him about your flush crush on Terezi and how upset you are that you never actually told her how you felt. In return, he tells you about when he had a flush crush on Tavros (and still does, to be honest), and how much it hurt when he rejected him.

The virtual shoosh-papping you’re able to do over pesterchum doesn’t calm you nearly as well as it would in person, but it pacifies you both to a state of relative calm. It’s not the floaty bliss they show in romcoms, but, then again, your life is _not_ a romcom, as much as you often wish it were. You can’t expect what happens in the romcoms to happen to you. Happiness is hard to come by in any of the districts, and you take what you can get.

 

==>

You pass out at about nine in the morning and wake up three hours later to the beeping of your phone, signaling that _somebody_ is flooding your inbox with a fuck ton of messages.

You groan and throw and arm over your face, because three fucking hours of sleep isn’t _nearly_ enough. Then, you roll over and tap the screen of your phone, making it light up and you squint at the sudden brightness. The first thing you see are several lines of purple that Gamzee must have sent after you passed out.

 

=> Karkat: Read those lines of purple!

TC: MaN mY mOtHeRfUcKiNg DaD wIlL pRoBaBlY nOt EvEn GiVe A mOtHeRfUcK  
TC: iF aNyThInG hEd PrObAbLy Be MoThErFuCkInG pRoUd  
TC: ThAt MoThErFuCkEr LiKeS cUlLiNg ToO mUcH  
TC: iM aLl FoR pAiNtInG tHe WiCkEd PiCtUrEs As LoNg As ItS wItH aCtUaL pAiNt  
TC: BuT mOtHeRfUcKiNg BlOoD?  
TC: No MoThErFuCkInG tHaNkS  
TC: KaAaAaRkAt  
TC: ...  
TC: BrO  
TC: yOu ThErE lItTlE mOtHeRfUcKeR?  
TC: KaAaAaAaRkAaAaAt

carcinoGeneticist [CG]  is an idle chum!

TC: Oh YoU pRoBaBlY fElL aSlEeP :o)  
TC: ThAtS fInE mOtHeRfUcKeR  
TC: yOu CaTcH sOmE oF tHoSe WiCkEd Zs BrOtHeR  
TC: iLl TaLk To YoU lAtEr  
TC: LoVe YoU bRo <>

terminallyCapricious [TC]  ceased pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG]

 

==>

You close out of the message window and return to your pesterchum home window. There, it becomes clear why your phone keeps beeping like its fucking broken.

twinArmageddons [TA]  opened a memo on joiin the rebellion

TA: 2o now that we all know were totally 2crewed iin the wor2t way po22iible  
TA: iim enactiing that one rule ii made iin the begiinniing but hoped we would never u2e  
TA: iif anyone get2 piicked for the hunger game2, they leave theiir phone at home and iill piick iit up.  
TA: iim takiing all phone2 at fiive  
TA: before ii have two leave for the reapiing ceremony  
TA: 2o ii dont know...  
TA: ii wa2 goiing two 2ay that you 2hould u2e iit two 2ay goodbye or 2omethiing  
TA: but were all goiing two meet iin the capiital iin a few day2  
TA: jegu2 fuck thii2 2uck2

ceresGrief [cg]  responded to memo

cg: thank u captor  
cg: for wasting wat precious little min we ave left of r lives  
cg: 2 post a fricking memo about a rule we already flipping no about

twistedColours [tc]  responded to memo

tc: dont be mean MOTHERFUCKER!  
tc: Sol iS doing the beSt he MOTHERFUCKING can given the MOTHERFUCKING circumStanceS!  
tc: everything MOTHERFUCKING SuckS right now  
tc: So we Should all cut each other a little MOTHERFUCKING Slack!  
tc: beSideS  
tc: itS not OUR MOTHERFUCKING fault you decided to Stay up until aSS o’clock in the MOTHERFUCKING morning on the day of the MOTHERFUCKING reaping ceremony!

cg: oh flipping pail u darkle

tc: haha you wiSh MOTHERFUCKER!  
tc: HONK! :o)

cg: nope  
cg: def do NOT wish

tc: lol :o)  
tc: MOTHERFUCKING pale for you <>

cg: pale 4 u 2 dork <>

ectoBiologist [EB]  responded to memo

EB: no pdpa!!! :B|  
EB: gosh ive been waiting FOREVER to use that one!!

spinningTurntables [ST]  responded to memo

ST: holy shit eckhart  
ST: such a nerd

EB: shut up dani!!!

ST: make me

EB: i will make you!!!!!  
EB: er... wait  
EB: that could be taken in such a dirty way...  
EB: DANIIIIIIII  
EB: you did that on purpose!!!!!!!!

ST: nah im good  
ST: god joni you think???

livelyApathy [LA]  responded to memo

LA: Why am I suddenly thinking about yaoi?

EB: RENAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

ST: holy shit woman  
ST: me and joni???  
ST: have you lost your marbles???  
ST: me and shouty mcnubbs i can see  
ST: but me and joni???  
ST: jegus fuck

heroicRanger [HR]  responded to memo

HR: mmm dicks :B

LA: Agreed.

carcinoGeneticist [CG]  responded to memo

CG: YOU DID *NOT* JUST BRING ME INTO THIS  
CG: DANI I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOG IF YOU JUST BROUGHT ME INTO THIS I WILL FUCKING CULL YOU, BRING YOU BACK TO LIFE, AND CULL YOU AGAIN  
CG: ARE WE FUCKING CLEAR?!

HR: mmm troll dicks ;B

LA: Even better  
LA: Troll vaginas.

HR: yummy!!! <3

CG: HOLY FUCK WHAT AM I EVEN READING CURSE YOU STRIA FOR BRINGING ME INTO THIS FUCKING CONVERSATION  
CG: CURSE YOU FOR-FUCKING-EVER  
CG: I FUCKING HATE YOU FOREVER  
CG: PLATONICALLY  
CG: CAN I STAB YOU WITH A FORK?

LA: Shouty troll vaginas.

HR: the best!!!

CG: SCRATCH THAT  
CG: I HATE YOU ALL FOREVER  
CG: I BID YOU NOOKWHIFFERS A FINAL FUCK YOU!

LA: Oh yes, that’s what the troll vagina is called.  
LA: Nook!

HR: it even sounds delicious :B

carcinoGeneticist [CG]  ceased responding to memo

 

==>

You exit pesterchum and throw your phone at your relaxation slab, pissed beyond all reason. You know they only do it to get a rise out of you, and it works like a charm _every fucking time_. You’d think you would have learned by now.

Whatever.

This is stupid.

Don’t you have other things to be doing?

 

=> Karkat: Do something else

It’s almost one, so you decide you should probably start getting ready for the Reaping Ceremony. District Nine’s doesn’t start until four, but you have to be in the Courtyard at three. It sucks having to wait around for an hour, but they have to do this whole fucking registration process and that takes a lot of time with all the people in your district.

You go into the ablution block and take a quick shower, hopping in and out as fast as you can because your hive doesn’t get warm water. As you’re getting out, you catch sight of yourself in the cracked mirror above the sink and nearly recoil.

You see, your shark like teeth aren’t just a weird part of your blood mutation. You’re actually a full blown seadweller. Gills and all. Your fins and webs are retractable, for some reason, and you think that might be a mutation, but your gills will always be there. They are currently the bright, cherry red of your blood and flared from the stimulation of your shower.

You usually try not to think about the implications of you being a seadweller, because it just adds unnecessary complications to your life, but you can’t fucking help it when you’re standing naked in front of a mirror, having a stare down with your gills and waiting for them to stop flaring so you can put on some fucking clothes.

Highbloods don’t have blood mutations, so, honestly, it should be fucking impossible for you to be a seadweller. Unless, of course, red _isn’t_ a blood mutation.

It’s very much a possibility, and a high _probability_ , that the Condesce has just been lying to everyone about Tyrian pink being the highest blood color. The only problem is that you don’t have any way to prove it that doesn’t end with you getting culled. Trolls tend to kill first, ask questions later.

You give a soft sigh when your gills finally settle back down against the pale grey skin of your chest, returning to a state that makes them look like nothing more than six pale scars on your chest. You slip on a pair of dark grey boxers and a t-shirt, and return to your respiteblock to scrounge up an outfit that isn’t ripped, torn, or stained.

It takes a bit of searching, but you finally find a pair of black jeans that are only slightly frayed at the bottom because they’re a bit too long for you. You put on a light grey dress shirt and a black tie that your lusus got you specifically for the Reaping Ceremonies.

Speaking of your lusus, where is he?

 

=> Karkat: Wonder where your lusus is

That’s kind of a pointless thing to do. You specifically remember him saying he was going to spend the night hunting for fish in the lake just outside the district. He said he would be back before the Reaping Ceremony.

As you’re thinking that, you hear the front door of your hive opening and Crabdad hissing for you to come help him haul his load in.

You open the door to your respiteblock and give your crabby lusus one of your special glares that you save specifically for the fuckers you love. A series of harsh sounding clicks and hisses spills out of your lips as you grumpily explain to him that you just got out of the fucking shower and you’re already cleaned and dressed for the fucking Reaping Ceremony and unless you want to fucking do it all again, you really can’t fucking help him.

He throws his claws up in the air in an expression of exasperation and leaves the hive. You go back into the ablution block to clean your fangs. A few minutes later, you hear him huffing as he struggles to haul a large bag of dead, smelly fish through the door.

You almost feel bad about not helping him, but by now it’s a little past two and it’s about a fifteen minute walk from your hive to the district courtyard. You have to get going if you want to make it there on time.

You finish cleaning your teeth, give a half-hearted attempt to make your hair lay flat, and straighten your tie. Once you’re ready, you make sure that your phone is turned off and sitting on your table for Sollux to pick up, wave to Crabdad, who promises he’ll come to watch the Reaping, and walk out the door.

Unconsciously, you take a path that takes your right past Lairae’s hive. You aren’t really surprised to see him waiting for you on his front step. He’s wearing grey pants and a flowy white shirt that makes him actually look like a girl for once. You’ve never really gotten around to asking him about that. He’s a girl but at the same time, a boy, and you’re kind of afraid to ask in case you piss him off. People say that you’re scary when you’re angry, but that just means they’ve never seen Lairae Sartel pissed off.

Lairae stands up wordlessly and joins you as you walk past. Neither of you say anything as you walk towards the courtyard together.

When you get to the courtyard, it’s already swarming with peacekeepers, directing kids and teenagers to the places they’re supposed to stand. Everyone who hasn’t already been registered is waiting in long lines in front of the registration tables. Parents and lusii are gathered around the edges of the courtyard, watching as their children prepare for the Reaping Ceremony.

You and Lairae go to stand in one of the lines that looks like it’s moving the fastest and wait for your turn.

 

==>

By four forty-five, you have been registered and directed to your spot in the quickly growing crowd of kids. You spot Crabdad watching you from the edges with Lairae’s lusus, Howlmom. You can’t see Lairae anywhere though.

Whatever.

You know he’s around.

At five, right on schedule, the Reaping Ceremony begins.

A small group of five people steps out onto the stage. One of them is a young rustblood, about two sweeps older than you, that you distinctly remember winning the Games two years ago. The other four are three Capital peacekeepers and the highblood who does District Nine’s Reaping Ceremony every year.

This year, she’s dyed the tips of her black hair a bright pink to match the color of her dress. Her pink eyes are bright and cheerful as ever, as if she doesn’t know or care the suffering the fucking Capital has put the districts through. She hasn’t aged a day since she first came here four sweeps ago.

“Good ewvening,” she says, her voice loud enough to carry across the entire fucking courtyard without the aid of a microphone. “Wvelcome to the twvo hundred and twventy-fifth annual Hunger Games Reaping Ceremony! Before wve begin, I’d like to take a moment to remind you all of this year’s Quarter Quell rules. I’m sure you all remember, but this is just a standard procedure wve must take. This year’s Quarter Quell rules state that _ewveryone_ abowve the age of six swveeps—or twvelve years—and belowv nine swveeps—or eighteen years—must hawve their name registered for the Reaping, regardless of any Soul Quadrants they might hawve filled. It also states that there wvill be no opportunity for anyone to vwolunteer for a tribute.”

She smiles again as she finishes and looks out upon the silent audience, as if waiting for someone to say something. When nothing happens, her smile grows just the tiniest bit before she resumes speaking.

“Nowv that that’s out of the wvay, let’s get on wvith the Ceremony!” she bubbles, practically skipping over to one side of the stage where the bowl full of girl’s names rests on a pedestal. You know what name is written on every single one of those fucking slips of paper.

“I’m sure you’re all vwery excited to knowv wvho wvill be representing District Nine in this year’s Hunger Games!” the highblood is saying. “As the age old tradition goes, ladies first!”

And, with that, she plunges a hand into the bowl and pulls out a single paper. With a slight flourish, she opens it and reads the name.

Then, she clears her throat and says, “Lairae Sartel.”

A soft murmur runs through the crowd as the other girls sigh in relief over not being picked. But the tension is soon pulled tight again as Lairae steps out of the line and makes his way calmly towards the stage.

You know what he looks like to the rest of the crowd. Calm and self-assured, perfectly at ease with his fate. He is the picture of perfection. You know it’s only because he’s had time to come to terms with it. You remember how panicked and pale faced he was as he told you the news this morning.

The highblood offers a hand to help Lairae up onto the stage, but he ignores it and steps up with a cool, practiced ease. The highblood’s smile falters momentarily, but she quickly regains it.

“Congratulations, my dear!” she says, ignoring the cold look on Lairae’s face. “And nowv for the boys.”

As she walks across the stage towards the bowl with the boys’ names in it, Lairae catches your gaze and holds it. You squeeze your eyes shut when the highblood pulls out the boy’s name and reads it.

She clears her throat again and you know what’s coming next. Your heartbeat speeds up until its practically vibrating in your chest.

This is _real_. It’s really happening. You’re going to be Reaped and then you’ll be in the Hunger Games and you’re probably going to be dead within the fucking perigee. You almost want to cry.

But then you remember Lairae’s picturesque calm as he stepped up on stage and you know you can’t let him beat you in this. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and almost miss it when the highblood says, “Karkat Vwantas,” in that loud, clear voice of hers.

You open your eyes and try not to stumble as you step forward, making your way through the crowd towards the stage. Your hands are shaking so you shove them deep into your pockets and force your shoulders back and your head up, fixing a glare on your face.

You hear Crabdad clicking in distress and your irritated, if not calm, façade almost slips. You fucking hate yourself for not telling him before. You didn’t really have much time, but you really should have at least said _something_.

Then, you’re stepping up on the stage with your glare fixed back on your face, enough force behind it that it makes the highblood’s smile slip again and she recoils slightly from you. You feel a surge of savage pleasure at that, knowing you made her react more than Lairae did. He raises a single pale eyebrow at you and you give him a shark-like grin.

“Wve nowv hawve our twvo tributes!” the highblood exclaims, smile back and radiant on her face. “Shake hands, both of you.”

You turn to face Lairae and he offers a thin hand for you to shake. You take it and give a firm shake that he returns with a surprising amount of strength. You turn back to face the crowd when you feel the highblood’s hand on your back. You look out at the faces.

A few of them stand out. You remember talking to them about the rebellion.

However, every face in the courtyard has the same dark expression. Some of them you know are just because they hate the Games and the Capital. However, others you think are because they have figured out just what the capital is doing, and that the games have been rigged. These faces belong to the people you and Lairae talked to.

The highblood touches your shoulder and you know it’s time to go. You seek out Crabdad’s gaze and apologize with your eyes. Then, you’re turning and being ushered towards the sleek train that will take you to the Capital.

 

==>

The first night on the train, you and Lairae spend watching the Reapings of the other districts. You don’t pay a whole lot of attention to them until they get to District Seven.

You don’t know what Gamzee looks like, because you’ve never seen a picture of him, so you’re not really sure what to expect. You know he’s really tall and skinny, but that’s about it.

You’re sufficiently surprised when they call his name and you finally see your moirail for the first time because _holy shit he’s kinda fucking hot_.

His thin face is painted white and grey, with darker lines accenting his high, sharp, purpleblood cheekbones, and framed by jet black locks of long, curly hair. His horns have got to be at least a foot long and, without them, you’re pretty sure he’s almost seven feet tall. _Seven. Fucking. Feet._ Despite his height, you think he’s almost as skinny as you, something that doesn’t comfort you in the slightest. He grew up in the fucking Victor’s Village. He shouldn’t look half starved!

You nearly work yourself into hyperventilation until Lairae paps your arm and says;

“Chill the fuck out, Vantas. My ‘rail’s up there too an’ you don’t see me ‘yperventilating about it.”

You glare at him but take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

“He’s so skinny,” you whine, looking back up at the screen and your elongated beanpole of a moirail. “Why is he so skinny?”

Lairae snorts.

“You’re ‘is moirail, you tell me.”

You think for a moment.

“Well...” you say after a while, “I know he’s high most of the time and that his ancestor drinks a lot of soporific beverages. And...” you flush, a little uncomfortable telling Lairae all this, “Gam eats sopor...”

Lairae turns to you, a look of horror and disgust on his face.

“’E fucking _EATS_ _sopor slime_?” he says, pitch rising a few notches. “The stuff we sleep in, ‘e _EATS_ it? And you _LET_ ‘im?!”

You let out an embarrassingly high pitched whine of distress and say, “It’s not like I’m okay with it! It’s just that there’s not much I can do when _I’m not there with him_!!”

“Jegus fuck, Vantas,” Lairae sighs, running a hand through his silvery grey hair. “You sure got yourself one fucked up ‘rail.”

Your grunt of agreement ends up sounding more like a whine. You hide your face in your hands because you’re distressed over your moirail and getting pacified by someone who’s not your moirail and it’s embarrassing as fuck.

“But...” Lairae continues after a moment, “I think I know what you’re feeling. I mean, you saw my ‘rail, right? She’s ‘uge an’ skinny as _‘ell_ an’ I know for a _fact_ that she’s got voices all up in ‘er thinkpan that drive ‘er up the fucking belfry on a daily basis. Makes me pity ‘er something fierce. Kinda like ‘ow you feel ‘bout your ‘rail.”

“Yeah...” you say in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

You fall into a comfortable silence after that and don’t speak again for a while. In fact, it’s not until the rustblooded victor comes into the compartment that there’s any noise at all.

“Hooly jiz wizards,” he says, and the ‘o’ is drawn out in the typical rustblood accent. “It’s, like, silent as _death_ in here! Hoow doo yoou stand it being this quiet?”

You glare and Lairae shrugs without really looking at him.

“Anyways, I’m Jaxies Tyrell,” he takes a seat on the cushiony chair across from you. “I’m last year’s victoor.”

“We know,” Lairae says stiffly.

Jaxies doesn’t seem to notice your anger or Lairae’s barely concealed irritation. You know what he’s here for, and you don’t want any part of it. He wants to help you think up strategies for how to kill your _friends_ and no fucking way in hell are you doing that. You bet Lairae probably feels the same way.

“Let’s talk strategy,” Jaxies says with a grin, clapping his hands together.

Your right eye twitches and you bite back a snarl. You are _not_ doing this.

“No fucking way,” you growl, standing up. “I don’t want to fucking talk strategy with you! Do you have any fucking clue who those people are?! Of fucking course not! Because you live in a fucking bubble in your pretty little fucking victor’s village. Well I’ll fucking tell you who those people are. One of them is MY FUCKING MOIRAIL. ANOTHER IS LARA’S MOIRAIL. AND THE REST OF THOSE FUCKERS ARE OUR BULGELICKING, NOOKWHIFFING, NUBSUCKING FRIENDS!!!!”

You’re breathing like you’ve just run a marathon by the end and Jaxies is leaning back in his chair as far away from you as he can get, eyes blown wide. Unable to look at him anymore, you turn and storm out of the room.

You make your way down the train to your room and collapse on the relaxation slab. There’s no recuperacoons on the train, but you’re used to not sleeping in the slime. After all, it’s not often that you can afford it, so you mostly just use it when you’re recovering from a bad injury.

Right now, however, you could really go for a dreamless sleep. You’re upset and angry and about two words away from having a panic attack. You’re scared for yourself, your moirail, and all the rest of your friends. You’re even scared _of_ them. What if, in the arena, they all turn on you? You’ll all be fighting to survive, and every other person alive is one less chance of you surviving. It’s horrible and _why the fuck did it have to happen to you?!_

You want to go home.

 

=> Karkat: Stop having a panic attack and go to sleep

You try to sleep. You really do, but you just can’t seem to get to sleep. The bed is almost too comfortable, compared to what you’re used to, and you lie awake, tossing and turning for hours.

You wish you could have brought your cellphone with you, because you want to talk to Gamzee right now.

Finally, at about three in the morning, you fall into a fitful sleep.

 

==>

When you wake up, it’s because the car jolted and you come flying out of bed, hissing and spitting with your teeth and claws bared. It takes a moment for you to blink the sleepy haze out of your eyes and remember where you are. Your body slowly relaxes and the adrenalin coursing through your veins fades.

You move to the dresser in the room and ruffle through it, looking for some clothes your size. Unfortunately, all the pants are several sizes too big, and you end up wearing the same ones you wore for the Reaping Ceremony. The shirt doesn’t matter as much, and you pull on the only black long-sleeved shirt there is. It’s a little big. The hem hangs to almost the middle of your thighs and you have to roll the sleeves up. It makes you look even smaller than you really are, but the only shirt that would have been small enough for you was the candy red of your blood color, and you definitely weren’t wearing that.

Once you’re dressed, you make your way to the dining car. Lairae is already up and eating breakfast, but the bags under his eyes suggest that, like you, he didn’t get much sleep last night. He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top that you have the sneaking suspicion he sleeps in.

Elfaba, the highblood, is sitting across from him, chatting away cheerfully. She seems completely oblivious to the bad mood Lairae is in.

You slide into the seat next to him and pile food onto your plate.

“Careful, dear,” Elfaba cautions you. “Highblood food can take some getting used to. You shouldn’t eat too much, or you’ll throwv up.”

You glance at Lairae and he gives you a stiff nod. You slow down and eat your food a lot less aggressively.

“’Ow long before we get to the Capital, you think?” Lairae asks, setting his fork down.

Elfaba hums thoughtfully.

“The train ride usually lasts a little under twventy hours,” she says, tapping her chin with one slender finger—you notice that she’s painted her nails pink, “so I’d say wve’ll be getting there close to noon.”

You glance at the clock. Its eight now, so that means four more hours stuck on this train. You groan.

Fucking _great_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? I was planning to write a little more of this chapter and do the whole introduction parade and shit, but then I was writting the whole dress up thing and I checked my words and I'm like holy shit I've already got over 7,000 words I better shorten this up a bit! So here you go :p


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